Lynn Irwin Stewart

Shut-up. Please

2012-01-27T09:25:00.002-05:00

I hate phones -- I use them only because I have to but, these days, most people seem to be surgically attached to them.

Recently, we went out to eat and were seated in a booth directly by a man who was eating alone. Just about the time we sat down, he either received a call or made a call and then went on to talk very loudly. Everybody in the section we were in could hear him -- I saw a few people give him the evil eye -- I wouldn't be surprised if the whole restaurant couldn't hear him, also. I don't know how long he talked -- it seemed like a long time but it probably wasn't.

Anyway, for whatever reason -- maybe because the connection isn't always great -- or maybe because when folks are in a public place they don't hear as well -- people tend to talk exceedingly loud when they are on their cellphones. It's annoying in a store when you can hear someone three aisles over but, in a restaurant, it's worse.

I will say that I don't mind so much if people have short conversations -- for instance, "We're at the restaurant -- see you in a minute". For the most part, though, I think people should let their calls go to voicemail and return the call later -- especially if it's not an emergency. Yes, I know, you wouldn't know if something is an emergency until you answer -- but most of the time, it's just people calling to chat about something that could wait. If you must answer, then do so, find out what it is, then tell the person you'll call them back. Or, for God's sake, TEXT. I've heard a lot of people say they "don't text" -- as if this has earned them a Girl Scout badge. All I know is that it's better to text than to disrupt everybody else with some conversation that others don't need to hear. I mean, really, we are getting into the realm of courtesy here, if nothing else.

Anyway, the restaurant we were in was not one that would be considered "high end" -- I have a feeling at a more upscale place, management would have stepped in quickly. So, maybe you just get what you pay for.

I've noticed that some places -- notably salons and some offices -- ask people to put their cellphones on vibrate -- but none really say, "please don't talk on your cellphone" but I'm beginning to think that's what some places -- like restaurants -- should do. I mean, after all, if you want to smoke, for the most part, you have to step outside -- why not with this, too? Both are equally disturbing when you are trying to have a meal or trying to enjoy a salon visit. By the way, I'm so grateful to the doctors' offices which post signs that ask people not to wear perfume or cologne while there -- but that's a whole other story.

No wonder I don't even want to leave my house much anymore. If the phone would stop ringing, it would be perfect.

2012 Reading List

2012-01-02T23:04:00.003-05:00

The Pit (Ground Zero)

2011-09-11T19:40:00.000-04:00

To stand before
The pit
And not waver.
To shed a tear
But not fall.
To feel the whisper
Of angels
And listen.
To be still
And remember it all.
To know that
Hope still lingers
To feel the
Blood rush
Through living veins.
To learn the lesson
And move forward
To feel at peace again.
This is my prayer,
While defying
The specter
Of catastrophe and doom,
That one voice
Can mingle
With millions
And this spot become
A healing room.

Lynn Irwin Stewart
May 31, 2002

I put this poem on the fence at Trinity Church near from Ground Zero in July, 2002. They have said that they kept everything that was put there so I'm assuming it's filed away somewhere.

They say we're young...

2011-08-08T12:56:00.000-04:00

and we don't know...we won't find out...until we grow...8/8/81...happy 30th Anniversary to my best friend...

Yes, I am.

2011-07-31T19:16:00.000-04:00

Gracefully

2011-06-22T11:38:00.000-04:00

So, I'm getting older. Not much I can do about it -- the only remedy for getting old is dying young and I'd just as soon stick around for awhile. After all, I've got a new little one in my life that I've got to teach a thing or two. When parents get ridiculous (and we/they all do), that's when grandparents step in to set everyone straight. We just can't be too obvious about it.

Anyway, this aging thing is not a lot of fun. Because of the DNA I so blessedly received, unless they discover a new wonder drug, I'm going to suffer with arthritis for the rest of my life, and it's likely to get worse instead of better. Also, because of inherited traits, I have high blood pressure and thyroid issues but they are under control. I have a few gray hairs -- including stupid "sideburns" that stick out like something scared me half to death. It's just a part of the way it is and, like anybody else, I'm dealing with the hand I was dealt as gracefully as possible.

But there are some good things about getting older. There are times now when I can truly say "don't have to, don't wanna, ain't gonna'". I don't have to worry about being "cool" or "with it" because I really don't care and, if I did, who else would? There's not much worse than an "older" person trying to hold onto a youth that has gone with the wind. No, I'm not completely comfortable in my skin -- I've never seen a photo of myself that I really liked -- I need to lose weight and it worries me but mostly for health reasons -- and in those moments of sheer rage when I'm trying on clothes. I have that deadly combination of love food/hate exercise. But, otherwise, the wrinkles are here to stay and, though I never say never, there won't be any Botox going on anytime soon.

But...

It's one thing to look in the mirror and see yourself -- I've done it for many, many years -- there hasn't been anything that has surprised me. I haven't gotten up one morning and found any drastic change from the day before. Same with the people I see every day -- my children grew up -- but, as with all aging, it was gradual. They were not little, then suddenly, big. Neither was my belly. My husband looks the same to me now as he did back then -- though if I look back at pictures of ourselves, this is not actually the case -- but, living day to day, the passage of time is just not that noticeable.

But then, I see pictures of people I used to know -- people who I have not had the privilege of seeing from day to day, week to week or even year to year. For some of them, Father Time has been generous; for others, not so much. And the thing is, I don't know where I fit in the spectrum because we never see ourselves the way others do. This can be good or bad and maybe it's better to never know which one it is. Anyway, it's seeing my contemporaries that make me realize that time has indeed been parading by while I was busy doing something else. And, while on the inside, my thought processes and the things that make me tick, haven't changed all that much, the outside surely has to those who haven't been around to watch me gradually get older.

And then there's Men Without Hats.

What, you may ask, are you talking about this time, fangurl?

Well, they were group which had one major (and, maybe one minor) hit back in the early 80s. The lead singer was named Ivan -- I even called a character in one of my (unpublished) novels by that name. I could Safety Dance until the cows came home -- though I had no idea what a "safety dance" actually was (I do now...thank you Wikipedia...it only took me nearly 30 years to figure it out). Watching the video of the song just recently (that would be thanks to YouTube), I was transported back to another time and I couldn't keep my feet still but, oh, Lord, why didn't I just stop there?

But, no, I had to look Ivan up and what he was doing today and reality hit me with a thunk. He is, like me, no longer young -- and no longer hirsute -- which is why, perhaps, he's wearing a hat nowadays. Anyway, I've been trying to reconcile then and now, though I'm not at all sure that reconciliation is actually possible.

I'm also thinking safety dance might have a whole other meaning nowadays -- like be careful, because if you fall off that stage, it's gonna' hurt like hell.

Apparently, Men Without Hats (Ivan is the only original member -- which included two of his brothers -- participating) is going on tour.

With the B-52s.

Call me jaded -- I prefer realistic -- but I just don't think that love shack is going to be shimmying like it used to.

But I'd pay to see it.

If I can stay up that late.

What I learned on Saturday Night

2011-05-23T10:02:00.001-04:00

We attended a beautiful wedding on Saturday night. The time was 7 PM -- so, of course, there are rules about what one should wear (it was not black tie). As a person who doesn't particularly like to "dress up" -- and who owns very few things that would be considered even slightly dressy -- it can be an issue to figure out what to wear and when to wear it. Of course, every time I've ever fretted about it, it's been useless -- at this wedding -- as most others I've attended -- there was no clear consensus about what should have been worn. A few women wore sparkly ensembles, some wore the little black dress, most had on what you might wear to a church service. I could only roll my eyes -- at myself -- for even taking time to worry about it. I could have used that time to agonize over something completely different.

Like the wreck my son was involved in, in Atlanta, a week or so ago. He walked away and so did the other people. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. And, thanks again to God, we happened to be in Atlanta at the time.

Or my big dog who somehow, freakishly, broke his "shoulder" -- an injury that usually isn't seen unless the animal has been hit by a car (he was not) or because of something even more sinister -- a tumor. Happily, there is no tumor so he is just a freak. Still, he is not completely out of the woods -- the nerve which operates the (front) leg, was not severed but it may not work again. He has some movement in that leg -- and he is getting around just fine on three legs -- but, if he can't eventually put that foot down and use it, it may well mean amputation. Time will tell. But he is alive and, otherwise, well.

Back to the wedding -- after the nuptials, we headed off to the reception which was being held downtown. We ate, we talked, we watched the newlyweds dance. But, not long into the festivities, a man collapsed -- and turned completely blue. As you can imagine, everything came to a grinding halt. The singer in the band began calling for a "doctor in the house."

Well, it's his training, I suppose, that makes him just act but Mark (we were only a few yards away because we'd chosen to go to the food table on the left) sprang into action and reached the man first. Another doctor -- a cardiologist -- followed, along with a couple of nurses. So, a man who was not breathing, had a cardiologist and an anesthesiologist working on him immediately.

I've never seen CPR done in person. It is a most violent act. The protocols for CPR no longer include "mouth to mouth" resuscitation but, after the man did not begin breathing, Mark did it, anyway. Now, I'm not going to give all credit to my husband -- it may well have been that the combination of activities around this man contributed to his rescue -- but, once Mark did that, he started breathing again.

Of course, the speculation going around was that this man had had a massive heart attack -- he had not -- he probably wouldn't have come back from that, no matter what -- and his pulse was strong the whole time. The problem was that he lost his airway -- and if you lose your airway, you don't breathe. And, if you don't breathe, you die.

When the man "came back", he had no idea what had happened. Mark told him he was going to the hospital and he asked, "why?" He is still in the hospital today -- they are doing a myriad of tests -- he has already "passed" all of the heart ones. They may never find a cause -- though Mark believes, considering he was eating at the time, that he probably choked on a piece of food. And, by the way, if someone has already collapsed, you don't stand them up to do anything to them -- including the Heimlich. If there are medical people present, don't holler out what you think ought to be done because it's usually wrong and could do more harm than good. And it really irritates -- and might distract -- the people who do know what they are doing.

Anyway, I'm not writing this to call my husband a hero -- in his mind, he just did what every doctor knows how to do (though if you are having a respiratory episode like this, an anesthesiologist is probably the guy you want most). I'm actually writing this for another reason.

And that is this:

What possible difference does it make what you wear to a wedding?

It doesn't.

Personally, I don't think, unless I'm a part of the wedding party, that I'll ever give it more than a passing thought (such as, is what I want to wear clean?) ever again.

And that's what I learned on Saturday night.

Being Human

2011-05-02T16:11:00.000-04:00

Humans are a judgmental lot. Religious or non-religious, we judge from the time we get up in the morning until we close our eyes at night.

We judge how people dress (I would never wear that!).

Well, I might not but it's because it looks horrible on me.

How they raise their children (I'd never let mine do that!).

Their little noses will be snotty and they'll have chocolate stains on their shirts, no matter what.

The way people vote. (Why, you're just stupid and uneducated and from the South)

No, no and yes.

The way people worship (you can't worship God in a contemporary service -- it's in the Bible!)

Oh, really? Where exactly?

Even saying someone shouldn't be judgmental is being judgmental. I mean, after all, what is judging but thinking somebody is doing something the wrong way -- or not the way you would do it?

I guess this hit home today because of the death of Bin Laden. So many people were quick to judge others who they felt were being a little too celebratory. I'm not saying that some words/actions weren't over the top but I can't help but feel that most people were celebrating not so much the death of an individual but the death of pure evil -- which happened to wear the face of Bin Laden.

I could be wrong but how do I know what's in anybody else's heart?

I admit I'm judging a little bit today because of the one-Bible-verse postings (mostly on Facebook) about how we should treat our enemies, fallen and otherwise. I've seen for myself how easy it is to pull one verse out of the Bible and run with it. But the main thing is, I think some people may be using these verses as a condemnation of others.

But condemnation has another name:

Judgment

Easy to recognize when others are doing it. Not always easy to see in the mirror.

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

Guilty as charged. Sometimes it's just too hard to take a good, long look.

That's why I call myself a practicing Christian...not because I go to church regularly...but because I'm always trying, and often failing, to get it right...

His Mother's Smile

2011-04-29T11:07:00.000-04:00

Thirty years ago, Mark and I got married eleven days after Charles and Diana. In 1982, we moved to Augusta, GA, on the day Prince William was born. In 1984, she and I were pregnant (briefly) during the same time. In 1997, Diana died on my birthday. That Christmas, I was surprised with a puppy -- a Boston Terrier who I named "Spencer" in her honor.

Both Diana and Spencer are gone now but they leave me with memories which I would not trade.

I've never been to England but I have always loved British history -- and the pageantry of the British monarchy. It fascinates me. The naysayers like to point out, with so many terrible things going on in the world -- wars, devastating tornadoes -- that it is somehow wrong to celebrate a happy event. Pray tell when are there not terrible things going on in the world? There are, and forevermore will be, flowers pushing up among the ashes. Hope springing eternal. It's why and how we go on. If we didn't have hope, we would have all perished in despair by now.

The wedding of William and Kate has given people another reason to say ugly things -- about royalty in general -- but also about the people who enjoy such things. I've never quite understood the need to put someone down for something that gives them joy. I don't watch football or baseball -- couldn't tell you who plays for what team -- couldn't even tell you who played in the last Superbowl -- but I respect that some people set their calendars around these sporting events.

I really don't care what the UK spent on the wedding. Whatever it was, it probably also brought in tons of revenue. With our own country rife with wasteful spending, fraud and pork, I can only say fix your own house before you complain about another. I'm not a citizen of the UK, anyway, so it's not my business -- no more than it's my business what my neighbor is spending on their daughter's wedding -- nor theirs as to what was spent on my daughter's.

I thought the wedding was beautiful, enchanting, even sweet -- and I cried a little while I watched.

Because, for a moment, I saw his mother's smile.

Jackson's First Easter!!

2011-04-22T21:51:00.002-04:00

What makes a bestseller a bestseller?

2011-02-02T10:17:00.000-05:00

I've often wondered (and written) about this. Great post from the "Dear Author" blog.

Remembering the Challenger

2011-01-28T10:59:00.000-05:00

Hard to believe that the Challenger disaster happened 25 years ago...I can remember that day so clearly...my eldest was only weeks away from turning one...my how time flies...and life goes on...

Listening

2011-01-23T20:02:00.000-05:00

There is always a period of time, after I've finished writing one story and before I begin a new one, when I think I won't be able to write anything else. I think the muse will not return and the voices will remain silent. So far, I've been wrong about that -- though the time between can be variable -- the longer it is, the more worried I become. And, the more worried I become, the less likely I'll be to come up with something new. So, I try to take it a day at a time, try to listen for the one voice which will finally speak to me very clearly and then open the door so that the other characters may add their voices to the din.

In the beginning, as ideas rotate around my brain, I can't make heads or tails of anything. The story is disjointed, the characters don't have names, the setting is elusive. Sometimes, more than one story is going through my head at the same time. I've had ideas percolating for years which have never seen the light of day -- and I've had ideas come from out of the blue and have been told to "write this down now." I don't really have any control over it. I suppose I could say, no, I will not write that but, so far, I've never refused any road the muse has led me down.

So, I wait and wonder what will come out of the chaos next.

I have a name. A place. The main female character even has a job that surprised me a little but then, I had an image of something which happens on down the road, and I realized, "oh, I get it." I still don't know if this will be what will ultimately be written. I don't know when it will happen, how long it will be, whether it will be told through one character's eyes (as most of what I write has been) or through multiple viewpoints. I don't even know whether it has a good ending or a bad one. Most of my stories have had reasonably good endings -- there might be a few loose ends and everything might not be a bed of roses but, overall, goodness reigns. But something tells me, one of these days, that may not be the case. I've been known to throw a few curveballs.

So, a writer, in whatever stage they are in, first-time or many times, published or unpublished, has to, before they ever put a word down, master the art of listening.

And seriously.

They really do talk to me.

I'm not making this up.

RIP, John Dye 1/31/63 - 1/10/11

2011-01-14T10:49:00.003-05:00

We used to gather the kids together on Sunday nights to watch Touched by An Angel...he was one of my favorites and I hope there was someone like "Andrew" waiting for him on the Other Side...

Jackson Smiling...or is it gas?

2011-01-10T09:09:00.000-05:00

Interesting articles...

2011-01-04T09:16:00.000-05:00

Distortion and Damage

and

Personal Well-being Overshadows income inequality

2011 Reading List

2011-01-01T21:48:00.042-05:00

I can't compete with all the book bloggers out there who read hundreds of books every year but here's my list for 2011. I'll add to it as I read (you can access this post from a link under "Go here for...") I don't really do reviews but if you see anything I've read that you'd like to know more about, please ask and I'll give you my opinion. I also have a list on Facebook and I sometimes add a few thoughts there. Some of these books go right back on Paperbackswap after I've read them -- so if you're a member of PBS, look me up (LIS859). And, if you decide to join PBS, please consider clicking on the PBS link (on the right-hand side). I will get a couple of credits if you join that way!!

Fiction

Before Versailles
The Dress Lodger
Out of the Blackout
The Last Witchfinder
Wicked Company
Daughters of the Witching Hill
The Exile of Sara Stevenson
The Soldier's Wife
Eve
To Dance With Kings
The Wet Nurse's Tale
The Tory Widow
The Queen of Last Hopes
The Sultan's Seal
Leonardo's Swans
Wench
Figures in Silk
Morality Play
Midwife of the Blue Ridge
O, Juliet
An Echo in the Bone
The Ultimate Gift
Grave's End
The Canterbury Papers

Non-fiction

Holy Ghostbusters: A Parson's Encounters with the Paranormal
The Time Traveler's Guide to Medieval England
Ghost Stories of Philadelphia, PA
Put the Needle on the Record

Really?

2010-12-28T09:55:00.000-05:00

I recently read a book which left me wondering -- again -- how it is that some novels get published, while others do not. This particular book -- which shall remain nameless because I'm not in the critiquing business -- was not a horrid book. It was not badly written and had an interesting premise -- but it really went nowhere, had an unsatisfying ending and the numerous characters were each a stereotype -- as if the author had to get every sort of personality quirk she could think of between the pages. At the end of it -- I seldom put a book down once I've started, even if I'm not particularly enamored -- all I could say was ho-hum.

I've often read that publishers/editors know a good novel when they see one -- and, after reading only one or two chapters. Really?

Really?

I won't denigrate their talent at sniffing out great works -- but they sure must be missing out on a lot better stuff out there. There must be a pile of books somewhere called "great novels which will never see the light of day unless self-published".

Now, I know that not every book is going to appeal to everybody. I've read books that had glowing reviews which I could not get into at all. I've read others that were just the opposite -- not great reviews but quite enjoyable.

But, what made an editor read this above-mentioned nameless novel and say, "we've got a winner"?

Anyway, I know how it works -- a manuscript has to cross an editor's desk at the exact right moment -- no matter how good -- or bad -- the novel is -- to get noticed. And that is why many writers -- who can actually spin a good tale -- don't get published. And why some who really can't, do.

As a reader and a (unpublished) writer, it's very frustrating.

By the way, I take great pains to say that I'm an unpublished writer because some published writers seem to get their panties in a wad if someone refers to themselves as a writer/author, if they haven't been published (or been paid for it, maybe?). Maybe I just don't understand the criteria but I simply don't get this -- if you write something, you are the author of what you have written, published or not -- is that not so? I can tell you, even unpublished, I'm neither judge nor jury on what anybody wants to call themselves.

I'd rather spend my time writing than worrying about that.

2010-12-10T13:17:00.000-05:00

He's here...

2010-12-09T22:02:00.000-05:00

Jackson Liam...born December 9, 2010...5:29 AM...8 lbs. 10 oz...21 inches long...okay, so I've held him...now it's real...

The clock has stopped...

2010-12-03T17:37:00.000-05:00

I added the "countdown" button shortly after I found out my first grandchild was on the way. As of today, his due date, the clock has stopped -- but, so far, no baby. There are still a few more hours left -- he could still arrive on December 3rd but I'm kind of doubting it, unless Shannon goes into labor right now and delivers fairly quickly. I wonder what the percentage is of babies who come on their actual due date.

We jump every time the phone rings.

I thought he might come early, in November, and that may have been partly because of hoping against another day -- December 6th. That was the day my daddy died, a Sunday, in 1981, and the day one of our dogs, Butler, died, on a Saturday, two years ago. And, yet, the idea that something joyful might happen on that day is maybe a good reason to hope it is that day, after all. I know one thing, after birthing three babies myself, they'll come when they come and they'll come how they come, despite the best-laid plans.

Today was another "birth" of sorts -- I finally finished writing/editing/posting my latest story. It's always a bittersweet day when that happens -- I've lived and breathed Cade and Delaine for, strangely enough, about nine months now and today was the day I could finally write "The End." I've been quite worried about letting go -- these characters have grabbed me more than any others else I've written and to have their voices go quiet unnerves me. I need the break but hope it won't be long before a new set of voices start whispering, then shouting in my ear.

So, I am free...and waiting for someone else to break free and see the world for the very first time. It's probably a good thing we don't remember being born -- or what things look like when we first open our eyes. It would probably traumatize us for life.

So, here's to endings and beginnings...

My shadow...

2010-11-23T21:31:00.001-05:00

Everybody sees their shadow occasionally -- I saw mine all the time. My shadow even had a name -- Madigan. She never knew that was her name -- she was completely deaf. But she knew a smile, a gesture of the hand. She was feisty, would pick a fight with the other dogs over next to nothing and smart. And she was one of the best friends I've ever had.

Saturday night, she was in my lap, sitting in such a way that her head was on my chest. Looking down into those brown eyes -- one almost completely obscured by a cataract -- I had the distinct feeling that she and I didn't have much longer together. Perhaps, she knew it, too. Perhaps that's why, on the day before, she brought me a present -- a dead mole. Perhaps it was a parting gift -- I have to say I didn't accept it very gratefully but, one day, I'm going to laugh about it. Right now, I'm trying to comprehend an existence without her under my feet, of seeing that white moon-face watching my every move, of her walking in front of me, swinging her head from side to side to make sure I was still behind her -- her eyes having to tell her, since her ears could not.

She entered my life through the internet. I don't know even know why I was looking but I found her on a rescue site called Bulldawgs of Georgia -- I saw her face and knew she was mine. She had been rescued from a puppy mill (she was a breeder) and, with her deafness, I wasn't sure what I was taking on. She had some "mental" issues to begin with (the breeder called her "Kookie") -- but who wouldn't after being caged for two years with barely any human -- or canine -- interaction? Still, she came into our lives -- and our house -- and before long, she decided it was good to be queen. She lived a miserable life for her first two years; a royal life for the next ten. She was my shadow, bonded to one person -- me -- as most deaf dogs will do.

Madigan had some health problems over the last couple of years -- hypothyroidism and Cushing's Disease -- she was on medication for both -- and in the last year, her snoring had gotten really loud -- which is saying a lot, considering she was a short-nosed Boston Terrier.

Last Sunday, around 3 AM, she cried out -- and, when we turned on the light, we found she'd spit up blood. There can be various reasons for this but, in all honesty, it's never a good sign. We took her to the emergency vet -- they took x-rays and there wasn't much guessing at that point -- tumors in the lungs and near her heart. It was a situation that was not going to get better and, in fact, would probably mean an agonizing death.

When we made the decision, in the wee hours of the morning, we took a moment to go into a private room and say our goodbyes. It didn't take long -- however humans and dogs communicate, she and I had said everything we needed to say over the last ten years. I reminded her of all the pups that would be waiting for her across the Rainbow Bridge, then we let her go. I held her as she took her last breath, as her tough old heart had its last beat. She went gently, easily, with complete trust, because she knew I'd never do her wrong -- she was in the arms of the person she loved most in the world. I would not have had it any other way. What a rare privilege having her in my life has been -- and I know, without a doubt, that I was loved completely and unconditionally as only a canine can.

I know the hand of God was in this -- in the last two years, we've lost three other dogs -- and each one taught us a lesson about how long to hold on -- and whether it was for the dog's sake or for ours. I prayed that when it came to this one -- to my Madigan -- that she would not be agony and that neither would we. The quickness of the whole scenario was a blessing, though, in the middle of it, it hardly seemed so.

I think, maybe, I was her angel during the time we had together on earth.

I know that, now, she is mine.

The ending is always the beginning...

2010-11-11T12:39:00.000-05:00

I've still been ignoring this blog shamefully -- not that there are legions out there reading it but I like to write here because it forces me to create something other than fiction -- but, when I'm deep into writing a fictional story, everything else suffers and that has included this blog. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel -- though reaching that light is equal parts ecstasy and agony. It's always that way when I let go of characters -- and their story -- which have consumed me for months. Like children leaving the nest, I want to push them out and I want to reel them back in.

But there has to be an end to one story so that a new one can begin. I have the main female character's name for the next piece already -- it was whispered to me -- but without any other instructions -- so I don't know who, what, when or where. But, eventually, the characters will start speaking loudly and I'll be compelled to write down what they say. And the insanity will begin again.

So, as I wind down the editing of this last creation, I'm envisioning some weeks of peace and quiet. At least inside my head. Outside my head, there is a new ending and a new beginning on its way. My eldest is in the last weeks (days?!) of her pregnancy (the ending) and soon, the baby (the beginning) will arrive, just in time for Christmas.

My intention, when I first found out that I was going to become a grandmother at such a young age (cough) was to keep a record of it, on this blog, but, unfortunately, these past months coincided with writing a novel so...I failed....but don't think it's not something that I haven't thought about every single day. This has all dovetailed perfectly actually -- not only with the story itself but with the finishing of it. And, soon, I'll be letting one love go to embrace another greater love.

I'm still worried. I'm still not a "baby person". I still don't get all squishy every time I see one. I'm still heading toward this new phase on a wing and a prayer. And, truthfully, I'm selfish about having my writing time interrupted or having to put my wants and needs on the back-burner. When you are a mother and have raised three children and they've all flown, you think, ah, now, it's my time. But, so far, it hasn't worked out that way. But that's okay, as C-3PO said, "I was made to suffer..."

Okay, I'm kidding. I'm not really suffering. But I do have to work really hard to stay upbeat. That old depression-monster is always out to get me, though I fight it tooth and nail. And, when I'm not writing, that's when it tries the hardest to invade -- and is more likely to be successful. If too much time goes by between the end of one story and the beginning of another, it is a cause for alarm. I will only take the smallest dose of antidepressant that I can so that the voices aren't silenced completely because, if they go, I spiral downward with them. If you think hearing voices is crazy, ask my ever-patient husband and he will tell you that not hearing them, for me, is much, much worse.

But, as I near the end of this particular writing and editing frenzy, I will have something other than more writing to look forward to...

So, come on out and play, baby Jackson...

I may not be ready...but I'm willing...

No time for hubris | The Augusta Chronicle

2010-11-03T10:46:00.000-04:00

No time for hubris | The Augusta Chronicle

She said...

2010-11-03T10:39:00.000-04:00

"corrupt bastards"...I thought she said, "crap bastards"...in any case, it's my new favorite phrase...so don't cross me or you might be one...

I admit it...I have a crush on Charles Krauthammer...

2010-10-29T09:09:00.001-04:00

I wish he'd run for office...I don't think I've disagreed with him on anything:

"There is a convention that all things partisan or ideological are to be frowned upon as "divisive." This is a piety that deserves to have a stake driven through its heart. What's the point of a two-party democracy if not to present clear, alternative views of society, the ...role of government, and ultimately, the balance between liberty and equality -- the central issue for any democracy?"...Charles Krauthammer

Long overdue David Lee Smith post...

2010-10-04T08:14:00.007-04:00

Last night was the season premiere of one of my favorite shows. Or it was. I'm not so sure anymore. I've watched CSI:MIAMI since its first airing -- started watching it, actually, before I started watching the original CSI.

Everything was going pretty good on MIAMI until a couple of seasons ago. The character of "Julia" was introduced and, as it turned out, she and Horatio Caine had a son. I think I've said this before but it's worth repeating -- nothing against Elizabeth Berkley but her appearance as Horatio's former lover had to be one of the worst casting decisions ever. She was around for a few episodes; the son for a few more -- then he got shipped off to Iraq or something -- I can't even remember. The "big deal" became a "so what."

Then there is the Calleigh/Eric lovefest. Gag me with the proverbial spoon. I have hated this from the first time she blinked her lovely eyes his way. I do know that two people who have never looked at one another in that way can suddenly find themselves in love (or lust) but this has been on the silly side from the get-go. There are plenty of fans out there that absolutely love this pairing -- I'm just not one of them. I like Emily Proctor, who plays Calleigh, but I just don't see or get the chemistry between her and Adam Rodriquez. But, then again, when Adam left the show for a short period, I didn't miss him so maybe he's the element that really doesn't move me.

But here's the real problem.

In seasons past, the one very bright spot in the CSI:MIAMI universe has always been the anticipation of an appearance by Horatio's nemesis, Rick Stetler. He might only appear for two minutes in a few episodes per season but I always knew there would be tension between him and Horatio (and other team members) when he did. I don't know how or when it happened but I became a huge fan of the actor, David Lee Smith, who portrayed Rick. What's bugging me is that I just had to write that word in the past tense -- portrayed instead of portrays. They basically took his character, turned him into something he wasn't (a thief and, worse, a murderer) and sent him packing. For those people who watched this with glee, please. You remove all the "villains" from a show and what have you got? Hmmm...how about the above-mentioned Calleigh/Eric icky slobberfest?

So, as I watched the season premiere of CSI:MIAMI, I realized (as I expected) that I wasn't feeling the usual anticipation and delight at seeing "old friends" on my TV screen. They wrapped this particular psychopath-story up in record time -- and it contained more holes than a hunk of Swiss cheese. And, of course, Jesse died. Jesse was played by Eddie Cibrian who was brought on, to much fanfare, when Adam Rodriquez (see above) left the show. Of course, Adam's return pretty much put the nail in the coffin for Eddie -- they couldn't possibly have two pretty boys so one had to go. Last hired, first fired, I guess. The show was anti-climatic because I, as well as most fans of the show, knew that Eddie had not been offered a new contract. So, it was pretty clear that he would not be getting up from the poison gas attack in the lab.

Well, I don't really care. They could have all stayed on the floor as far as I'm concerned. I'll probably keep watching, out of habit, but I'm no longer enamored, though hope springs eternal -- they've brought characters back from the dead, so why not back from prison? And, anyway, I don't have a problem seeing Stetler in an orange jumpsuit -- it would go along with all the crazy-colored shirts and ties they always put him in, anyway.

I've got a Facebook fan group (as well as a small section on my personal forum) for David Lee Smith (links on right-hand side of blog) and I'll carry on with my copious complaining and whining. It may not do one bit of good but it sure makes me feel better.

It's going to get worse, though, before it gets better. I'm almost finished with writing/editing a novel in which I use DLS as my "muse". If you don't write, you may not understand this entirely but letting a story and characters go -- after they've been living and speaking (and Cade has been speaking in a glorious Alabama accent, which I hear perfectly because I'm right next-door in Georgia) -- in my head, is not easy. Knowing that Stetler is not going to be popping up on CSI:MIAMI makes it even more difficult to let go. It's like losing him twice. I don't expect everyone to understand my chaotic brain but that's how I roll. So, expect more bitterness in the near future.

Really, all I need is for David Lee Smith to show up, as a recurring character (or even just a guest spot, at this point) in some other show. If and when that happens, I'll consider forgiving CSI:MIAMI. But, until then, I'm holding a grudge.

(Thanks to Anne for the The David Lee Smith Society banner)

Yes! We are!

2010-09-22T16:27:00.000-04:00

Americans are exhausted | The Augusta Chronicle

I agree...

2010-09-09T09:33:00.000-04:00

A burning hatred | The Augusta Chronicle

A Few Truths for Us Mature Humans

2010-09-02T21:54:00.006-04:00

1. I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

3. I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

4. There is great need for a sarcasm font.

5. How are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

6. Was learning cursive really necessary?

7. Map Quest really needs to start their directions on # 5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

9. I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

10. Bad decisions make good stories.

11. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.

12. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I don't want to have to restart my collection...again.

13. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page technical report that I swear I did not make any changes to.

14. "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this - ever.

15. I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello?), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voice mail. What did you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

16. I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

17. I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

18. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

19. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lite than Kay.

20. Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what was going on when I first saw it.

21. I would rather try to carry 10 over-loaded plastic bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

22. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

23. How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they said?

24. I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers and sisters!

25. Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

26. There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

27. Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

28. Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I bet everyone can find and push the snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time, every time!

Two. Three. Four. Five. Two

2010-08-22T15:53:00.005-04:00

That's how it starts out. Two.

Two join hands and agree to weather the storms -- and pledge to laugh through as many of them as possible.

Then, somewhere along the line, the two decide to become three, then four, then five.

And then before you know it, one goes, then two. And, then suddenly, there it is. The baby has grown up and there she goes, on a wing and a multitude of prayers.

So five become two again.

It's been twenty-five years since it's been just the two of us. Of course, it's different than it was -- back then, there was nobody -- now there is still somebody, just not continuously under the same roof.

My children are all different -- night and day and something in between. Each one holds a piece of my heart in their hands.

This one -- this last one to fly -- is a mini-me. Except for the majoring in biology-thing and the ability to cipher. I mean, really, exactly what is calculus? What do you use it for? Otherwise, we have the same slightly off-kilter sense of humor, we don't suffer fools gladly and we can spend a lot of time alone with a book and a dog (or five) and be perfectly happy. And we're both addicted to Say Yes to the Dress. And Vera Bradley and shoes. Well, I can say that about my oldest child, too, so that apple-not-falling-far-from-the-tree story must have some truth to it.

I'll adjust to the relative silence -- though with all of these critters now left in my care, it's not that quiet. But there's a voice missing. A footstep I'm not hearing. And nobody asking, "what's for dinner?" After twenty-nine years, hubby has learned what not to ask if he wants a pleasant evening.

I don't much like this new normal but it's the way of things. The birthing, the growing, the leaving. It's the way it's supposed to work.

So, the snipping sound you hear is me, cutting the apron strings.

But the door remains, always and forever, open.

Orlando Photos

2010-08-05T09:20:00.003-04:00

I finally posted some pictures from our trip to Orlando...go here if you'd like to see them -- there are some from Universal (all from the Wizarding World of Harry Potter) and SeaWorld. They are on Facebook, too -- by the way, if you friend me because you know me from this blog or my forum...please let me know who you are!!

Neglect...

2010-07-31T21:42:00.002-04:00

I am neglecting this blog terribly...so much to say, so little time...or maybe it's more like not much to say, plenty of time...it gets this way when I'm writing other things and living more through the characters than my own real self...my double life...so back to Cade and Delaine and the mess they've gotten themselves into...I'll do better here as soon as I can...

Just for a laugh...

2010-07-25T12:21:00.002-04:00

Job at the FBI

The FBI had an opening for an assassin.

After all the background checks, interviews and testing were done, there were 3 finalists:

Two men and a woman...

For the final test, the FBI agents took one of the men to a large metal door and handed him a gun.

'We must know that you will follow
instructions no matter what the circumstances. Inside the room you will find your wife sitting in a chair ... Kill her!!'

The man said, 'You can't be serious. I could never shoot my wife.'

The agent said, 'Then you're not the right man for this job. Take your wife and go home.'

The second man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet for a bout 5 minutes.

The man came out with tears in his eyes, 'I tried, but I can't kill my wife.' The agent said, 'You don't have what it takes. Take your wife and go home.'

Finally, it was the woman's turn. She was given the same instructions, to kill her husband. She took the gun and went into the room. Shots were heard, one after another. They heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls. After a few minutes, all was quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the
woman, wiping the sweat from her brow.

'This gun is loaded with blanks' she said. 'I had to beat him to death with the chair.'

MORAL:

Women are crazy. Don't mess with them

Nothing like Orlando...

2010-07-19T15:20:00.003-04:00

and 90-something degree weather...36,000 people...and the Wizarding World of Harry Potter...still looking for Lucious Malfoy...oops...meant Lucius....

The rationing czar | The Augusta Chronicle

2010-07-12T09:16:00.001-04:00

If this isn't a wake-up call, I don't know what is.

The rationing czar | The Augusta Chronicle

For you, again.

2010-07-06T10:07:00.005-04:00

This is not a monumental birthday. Not one with a zero or a five on the end. Simply a 23rd. It's not my birthday, either -- I'm a long way from twenty-three.

But, today is my middle child's (and only son's) birthday.

We didn't know what he was before he was born (I knew with both my girls). He was turned wrong during my one and only sonogram so we spent the whole time in the dark. By the time he was born on that hot July day, I was begging my doctor to tie my tubes -- he wisely refused, knowing I was under duress.

The duress came from having a placental abruption, followed by an emergency c-section, blood transfusions and small chunks of lost memory (like the first time I held him). One of the things I remember very clearly -- turned on my side so that all I could see was my doctor's feet -- was the doctor saying that they had to get the baby out before there was a disaster.

And, they did. Wesley was fine, had weathered the storm. I wasn't so lucky -- in fact, I remember at one point, looking at my husband -- who as a physician knew all the things that can and will go wrong -- and asking him if I were going to die. I survived, though I had to spend nearly ten days in the hospital.

I was one sick puppy, I can tell you that. And I didn't want to go through it again but went on to have another child anyway (and, yes, there were problems -- most likely caused by the abruption -- but different).

But, for Wesley, I'd do it all over again. Every single moment.

It was well-worth it.

Happy birthday, little man.

A little man who's now well over six feet tall but still, always, my little boy.

One moment

2010-06-21T13:50:00.006-04:00

"One moment you're going about your daily business; the next, you're done."

That's what my husband said as we traveled this weekend to Asheville, North Carolina, to visit my aunt. We were going through Greenwood, South Carolina, and, as we approached a large intersection, we could see several emergency vehicles, lights flashing, up ahead. As we got closer, we could see peop le stan ding on the side of the road, watching, as people do.

It was a big accident. A semi had apparently jack-knifed and another vehicle, a truck, was on its side.

Mark said, with the practice of someone who's seen a lot of emergencies, "Somebody died in that."

A policeman was directing traffic so we didn't have much time to take it all in.

My brain didn't quite process what it had seen until a few seconds later when my mother said, "I think I saw a leg." What I realized I'd seen was a white sheet covering a body in the cab of the pick-up, with the leg exposed.

It was one of those moments when, in absolute clarity, the full portrait of life and death gets painted right before your eyes. When we know that we're all on borrowed time and our next breath might well be our last.

It's not a pleasant picture, to be sure, but it's the way it is. But we can't dwell on it or we'd go crazy -- what we have to do is learn from it.

We have to live to the fullest, say I love you, say I'm sorry, make amends, tell someone they are important to you. We have to be ready just in case that semi has our name on it.

I don't know how many people's lives where shattered by that accident. There may have been more than one death, even. Most of the time, when someone dies, they leave behind people whose lives are changed by the loss. This person may have had a spouse, parents, children who will now have to get used to a new normal, to a life without that person.

I was just passing by but I got the message loud and clear.

Sometimes a normal day can change in a heartbeat.

And, sometimes, it is too late.

Birmingham 205

2010-06-02T11:39:00.005-04:00

I'm not in Alabama -- nor have I been for years. But I set my latest story (Half) there so that's where my mind is. I'm roaming streets I do not know, wandering a college campus I've never been to, talking to people who've lived there all their lives but who do not exist except in my head.

I chose Birmingham (and neighboring Tuscaloosa) for this story for a couple of reasons -- one is that all of my stories (so far) are either set in the south or the main characters are southern (and are in a fish-out-of-water circumstance somewhere else) -- and, up until now, I had not used Alabama. It's a personal choice I've made again and again -- the old maxim "write what you know" rings true. And, honeychild, I do know the south. Born, bred, raised and all that jazz.

Another reason I chose Birmingham is because my muse hails from there. Anybody who's been kind enough to read some of my work, knows that I always have a "face" (for most characters) which serves as my jumping off place. That face drives me and fills in the blanks until the characters take on a life of their own and I no longer need that vision to keep me going. A habit of mine, though, is that I'll take a few bits and pieces from the muse's real life and spread it throughout the story. In this case, not only do the majority of scenes take place in Birmingham but there's also a good bit about The University of Alabama, which happens to be my muse's real-life Alma Mater.

I'm always careful, if I know something too personal about my muse, that I don't include it. What I will include, for example, was the flair for the Spanish language that I gave Nathan in my story, Blue. The reason -- because my muse for Nathan was British actor, Jason Isaacs -- and I knew he could speak Spanish. Not too personal but just a little tweak I could add to a character that I might have never thought about otherwise.

Not that any of my muses would ever read anything that I've written but I have to admit that I'm always a little bit leery that, if they did, they might get offended by some of the personality traits I've given the characters which I've based on them. Trust me, those are completely made up. I don't want any reader to think, either, that I know something that nobody else does. I do not. The face may belong to somebody but the story is mine.

I've been writing, editing and posting stories for years now -- some people tell me I should be published -- and I certainly wouldn't mind -- but I don't know if it's in the cards. It's not something that worries me excessively -- I write because I love it -- and when I'm writing, the real world tends to get left behind while I inhabit the fictional one -- the sink stays full and, each day, I have to search for clean clothes because the laundry gets left in the dust (oh, yeah, that, too) when the voices are continuously saying, "Write this down. Now."

It always amazes me how things come together in a story. I fret over how I'm going to get from Point A to Point B -- and then suddenly, I'm there, and it's all worked out. I've learned, over the years, how to let it go -- because, almost always, the different threads will come together -- and actually make sense. Just recently, I had a scene which I wanted to be set in a certain location but every indication told me that it could not be set there and I'd made up my mind to accept that it would have to take place elsewhere. But one simple conversation between characters put the scene right where I always thought it should go. It's not me, though, it's them.

There are other things which make me struggle as I write -- like trying to figure out what city some of the other portions of the story should be set -- then finally, realizing, of course that's where -- another tribute to my muse. Sorry for being a little cryptic but I've only posted a few chapters and there's a lot which has to wait to be revealed.

There are things that are sometimes brought up by writing which I never expect. This particular story also concerns a mental health issue and, in thinking about it, I was swept back to my childhood and the "nervous breakdown" my father suffered when I was a small child. I had not thought about it in a long time -- the only thing I really remember is going to pick him up from the hospital. A hospital in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. It's one of those "full circle" kind of things, as if those small memories, stored in my brain, were waiting to be used for some greater purpose. Even if this isn't directly about that experience -- which included giving a ride to a hitchhiking soldier and a mynah bird (no, we didn't give a ride to a bird...but, nevermind...) -- I can put those old feelings to good use. What makes me smile -- though maybe it shouldn't -- is that in our family, Tuscaloosa became a byword for the crazy place. That was before any of us knew about being politically correct.

So, the voices which were murmuring quietly for so long have been loud and clear -- and have forced me to write more than edit (I usually do both at the same time -- while writing one chapter, I'm editing another). I'm probably one of those strange people who actually enjoys the editing process more than the initial writing -- once the story is down in its often disjointed way, it's actually a pleasure to go back and add detail or throw out what doesn't need to be there. For me, that's where the meat of the story is.

But, if you ever run into me in the flesh, and it seems like I'm not quite listening to what's going on in the world, don't worry. I am listening -- but it's probably to the voices inside my head. Sometimes, I have to tell my characters, as I used to say to my eldest when she was little, "please, two minutes of silence!"

Hush, now hush. Let me get this straight before you go babbling about something else.

I'm in love with these people. When I'm inhabiting their world, they are my world. So, cut me a little slack for not being too present in the real world -- I'm just too dang busy in theirs.

Boycott

2010-05-20T12:37:00.006-04:00

No, I'm not talking about Arizona - I'm going to let them figure out what they need to do on their own. I can't solve all the world's problems -- sometimes I can't even solve the ones in my own household so, Arizona, you have my permission to do your thing without my input.

There is one thing I do have control over, though -- the TV remote. If anybody ever needs my fingerprints, that would be a good place to start. I've been through several computer keyboards because I wear the letters off -- likewise with the remote (though, let's be fair, it's not just me). I do most of my TV watching by "shi fting" -- because my TiVo and I are thisclose, commercials have become the enemy. Yeah, I know -- it's how they pay their bills -- but, at this point, if I have to watch something with commercials, I'm likely to say no thanks.

This TV season has been one of going cold turkey -- I guess maybe I get fed up quicker these days -- but, once I do, that's it. Boycott isn't really the correct word to use -- it's not that I'm protesting so much as I'm just at the point of y'all may carry on without me.

I ditched American Idol as soon as Tyler Grady was eliminated from the Top 24. Yeah, I know he must have gotten fewer votes but the judges comments -- and I do like a bit of Simon Cowell -- irritated me enough to make me quit. I do know who made the final two but only because you really can't avoid it if you can read or hear. However, the TiVo is still recording the show so I guess it's still being counted for ratings purposes. My bad.

I also dumped True B lood. I love vampires -- always have -- and sexy ones, like Bill, are right up my alley. But they crossed a line and my interest waned. I won't go into all of that because it involves religion -- let's just say I'm perfectly capable of enjoying and laughing at almost anything -- even if it's totally opposite to what I believe - but, there comes a point, where I'm just not laughing anymore -- and it's an hour of time I'll never get back. It's the same way I feel about books -- life is too short to read something you want to heave against the wall.

So, ba-doop, ba-doop.

But now it comes down to CSI:MIAMI

The show has be en silly for the last couple of seasons -- probably not what they've been aiming for -- or maybe it's just my prickly sensitivities. One of the absolutely worst storylines involved Horatio and his former lover, Julia. I don't know even know where to begin but it was just downright stupid. I can't even get into the details because it makes my mouth curl up real ugly.

And then there's the Calleigh/Eric thing. Please. Just. Stop. It doesn't work on any level and it has dragged on for much too long with not much to show for it. Mismatched, no sparks -- I know what they say about opposites attracting but, sometimes, opposites just need to remain in separate corners. Now, along with my curled lip, I'm rolling my eyes.

Anybody who's been reading my blog or forum knows that my favorite moments in CSI:MIAMI revolved around the recurring character of Rick Stetler. Call him a jerk, call him arrogant -- he was Horatio's nemesis and was exactly what he was supposed to be. All I know is that the character wasn't brought in nearly enough.

Then, suddenly, it was Christmas in May. Three episodes in a row with Stetler -- but, what should have been joy, turned into a really bad feeling, really quick. A lot of talk about "inside jobs" and a "long-time character going down". And then a Hollywood source pretty much confirmed it -- though hope sprang eternal until the end.

I have watched CSI:MIAMI since it premiered -- in fact, I tuned into MIAMI before I watched the original CSI. I don't know why -- probably because it came on directly after Everybody Loves Raymond or Becker 0r something (I guess there is something to a lead-in show). And, probably, because I live in Georgia but have never been to Miami, it just seemed closer to home than Las Vegas. By the time Rick Stetler popped up in the second season, I was already hooked on the show. Stetler was, from the beginning, a thorn in Horatio's side -- I enjoyed the character but, honestly, I didn't pay much attention to who was playing the part. In fact, it wasn't until later on that my discerning ears told me that the actor had to be from the south -- people can fake southern accents but, to another southerner, they usually sound, well, fake -- so I looked him up on IMDB and found out that my ears had not deceived me. That pretty much tipped me over the edge and I became not only a Rick Stetler fan but a David Lee Smith fan as well.

But, last Monday, Miami said goodbye, in an absurd and totally out-of-character way, to Rick Stetler. They came up with some lame-ass back story which never had been peeped at and, over night (or so it seemed), Rick was not only a thief but a murderer.

Oh, no they didn't.

Well, yeah, they did. I do declare and bless his heart.

Telling myself, over and over, that it's just a TV show is not working for me. I'm still trembling with outrage. Okay, alright. I'm just massively irked.

Se, the thing is, until now, I could always depend on Rick showing up at some point -- so there was always something to look forward to, even if his appearances were few and far between (and usually way too brief). Now, I'm wondering -- do I even bother to keep watching?

But, here's the other thing. I've got some real long-term emotion invested in CSI:MIAMI -- even beyond Rick Stetler and David Lee Smith. All of these characters have been coming into my home for years (except for Jesse and Walter, neither to whom I've warmed). And, even though plots have been on the squirrel side of nutty, the show has always been fun. I don't know that I can just walk away.

I will say this, though, Rick Stetler's swan song gave David Lee Smith a chance to really shine (and let that Alabama accent come out, front and center) and, for that, it was almost worth it. Almost. If I had my way, I would rather he still be on the show occasionally than be gone forever. But they did not ask my opinion though I have not been shy about giving it to them, anyway -- before and after.

So, here's a toast to Rick Stetler -- gone but not forgotten -- and David Lee Smith -- I'll be checking IMDB obsessively...

And I'll probably continue to watch CSI:MIAMI. There's one episode left in this season -- will they even mention Stetler (as it was a pretty big damn deal what happened) or will it be as if he never existed? I keep thinking of ways to bring him back -- the possibilities are endless.

Here's an idea -- just let me write a script -- I'll work something out.

CSI:MIAMI moves to Sunday nights this fall. CSI:NEW YORK moves to Friday.

The David Lee Smith Society (on Facebook)

Dance

2010-05-16T13:56:00.005-04:00

An old prospector shuffled into town leading an old tired mule.The old man headed straight for the only saloon to clear his parched throat. He walked up and tied his old mule to the hitch rail.

As he stood there, brushing some of the dust from his face and clothes, a young gunslinger stepped out of the saloon with a gun in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.

The young gunslinger looked at the old man and laughed, saying, "Hey old man, have you ever danced?"

The old man looked up at the gunslinger and said, "No, I never did dance...never really wanted to."

A crowd had gathered as the gunslinger grinned and said, "Well, you old fool, you're gonna dance now," and started shooting at the old man's feet.

The old prospector --not wanting to get a toe blown off-- started hopping around like a flea on a hot skillet. Everybody was laughing, fit to be tied.

When his last bullet had been fired, the young gunslinger, still laughing, holstered his gun and turned around to go back into the saloon.

The old man turned to his pack mule, pulled out a double-barreled shotgun, and cocked both hammers.

The loud clicks carried clearly through the desert air.

The crowd stopped laughing immediately.

The young gunslinger heard the sounds too, and he turned around very slowly. The silence was almost deafening.

The crowd watched as the young gunman stared at the old timer and the large gaping holes of those twin barrels.

The barrels of the shotgun never wavered in the old man's hands, as he quietly said, "Son, have you ever licked a mule's ass?"

The gunslinger swallowed hard and said, "No sir..... but... I've
always wanted to."

There are a few lessons for us all here:

*Never be arrogant.
*Don't waste ammunition.
*Whiskey makes you think you're smarter than you are.
*Always, always make sure you know who has the power.
*Don't mess with old men, they didn't get old by being stupid.

(Thanks, Jennie -- a good laugh is always a blessing!)

David Lee Smith...triple play...

2010-05-10T15:44:00.005-04:00

So, what's up with CSI:MIAMI?

First they have a Rick Stetler drought and now they're putting him in three episodes in a row. I've heard some rumors that I don't really like and I'm holding my breath hoping they are not true...

Oh, me and my overwroughtness about a TV show...but I can't help it...I love this actor and I just don't get to see him often enough.

Please somebody, give the man his own show. Make him a doctor on Miami Medical. Give him his own CSI show. Put him in every sappy Hallmark movie you can throw at me -- I'll roll my eyes but I'll watch.

For goodness sake, make me happy, why don't you, oh powers-that-be in Hollywood?

And, oh yeah, while you're at it, can you get him to take his shirt off?

Something I've noticed...

2010-05-04T10:40:00.001-04:00

I try to share a quote of the week each week -- sometimes it's just something I like but most of the time it means something. A lot of times, it may be particular to whatever I'm going through but, often, I choose what I do because of something going on out in the bigger world. This week's quote -- I'll share it because eventually this week will become next week and the quote will change while this entry will not:

I have seen great intolerance shown in the support of tolerance...Samuel Taylor Coleridge

I've always known this to be true but in my meanderings around the internet, I've seen how true it really is. And I've found that many (notice I didn't say "all") folks who carry on about intolerance from high atop their soapboxes are often (notice I didn't say "always") the most intolerant of all. They may sincerely champion certain causes and people but woe to anyone who voices a different opinion. Suddenly, the tolerant become the intolerant -- though, in many cases, they can't seem to recognize this in themselves. Apparently, the mirror fogs up with their righteous anger. Well, I think there are a lot of people who need to turn on the exhaust fan and take a long, hard look at themselves.

There are two things I see happening:

One is that, once someone has posted a disagreeing viewpoint, the poster is hit immediately with words like "ignorant" and "stupid". Now, I've heard tell that the word "ignorant" shouldn't be an insult but, believe me, the way people use it, it is. They are not trying to be kind. Try calling someone ignorant to their face and see what happens. Anyway, this, in itself, is a form of intolerance. It's the "you don't believe the way I do so you're ____"(insert insult of choice here). I maintain, when people turn to insults, it's because they've run out of anything constructive to add to the conversation and, for me, the continuation of the discussion is pretty useless.

The other thing is the opposite of the above -- instead of being blasted with name-calling, the poster is ignored. It's basically the same thing -- "you don't agree with me so I'm not going to dignify you with a response". I think this is another kind of intolerance. Just a quieter one -- and, perhaps, even more hurtful. A person who won't even listen to somebody else's opinion is not, in my book, tolerant at all.

I don't respond very often on political posts or blogs but, if I do, I just walk away (or click away, as the case may be) from anything that goes over the edge. I've found you can't have a civil conversation with anybody who resorts to name-calling -- and you definitely can't have one with someone who won't engage.

I do not claim to always be tolerant -- for instance, I'm very intolerant of stupidity. This is not about the inability to learn but the refusal to do so. And learning doesn't necessarily mean changing one's opinion, it means educating yourself about all opinions -- not just your own. People want to toss around the words "equal" or "fair" all the time but they don't want to reciprocate.

On this blog or on my forum, nobody gets name-called -- or ignored -- if they disagree with me. I never allow any poster to jump on another poster -- not only would the post be deleted but they'd probably get a warning that, if they do that again, they'll be sent packing. I'm always amazed when bloggers, etc. let their readers gang up on each other. And it usually means I won't be going back to that blog again (or Facebook page, forum, etc.).

You see, I think of this blog and my forum as an extension of my home. I don't want to be ugly to anyone or have them be ugly to me -- and I don't want the other guests to feel uncomfortable, either.

So, for what it's worth, that's my promise to you.

The adventure begins again...

2010-04-21T12:56:00.011-04:00

I've been trying to get my thoughts together before writing this particular post. For those who only read my blog (and not my forum or who are not on Facebook), you aren't aware that last weekend brought more than senior prom and a beautiful daughter in a Cinderella dress.

It also brought news from our beautiful eldest daughter: she and her husband are expecting a baby in December. So, that means yours truly is going to be a grandperson! It did not come as a huge surprise -- I'd had a feeling it would be sooner rather than later -- though it seems only yesterday (instead of two years ago) that I was writing about wedding festivities.

I haven't had to deal with an infant in eighteen years so I'm feeling a little rusty. Couple that with an admission -- which I've always freely given -- that I've never been a "baby person" and it's got me a little nervous. I'm just not one of those who melts when I see a baby -- or one that wants to hold one the moment I lay eyes on it. I've been told, though, that a grandchild is a whole other ballgame -- so I'm going to embrace that idea on a wing and a prayer -- and hope that, even if I can't be a fantastic grandmother, I can be a decent one. Is that too much to ask?! Or not quite enough?!

Of course, the ideas that are occupying my head at the moment are these...

The most important is that Shannon has a healthy pregnancy and easy birth and that the baby will be healthy (and easy!) as well.

Second, I'm trying to decide what I want him or her to call me.

I'm just not one that wants to be granny or grandma or grandmother. I don't want to be Mimi or Gigi or Nina -- or any other nicknames. I am willing to accept whatever the child wants to call me (and others who follow) but, until the child can speak, I have to refer to myself as something -- so I've got to decide what I want that to be. I have a few ideas but I don't know. I don't want to get ridiculous. And I don't want to make it more of an issue than it is (because, really, in the scheme of things, it isn't).

I've asked Mark what he wants to be called but all I get from him is a "hmmph". I don't think his brain has wrapped around the idea at all.

I think he's feeling a little, shall I say, too mature. We're both fifty and I think I've accepted that as a number more than an age (though my body does remind me quite often that I'm no spring chicken). The thing is, men always seem to hang on to certain juvenile areas in their brains so he needs to just connect with that and run with it. And try not to annoy me in the process.

As they say (who are "they", anyway?), the only cure for old age is dying young. So, I'm determined to embrace each new stage of my life with as much gusto as I can manage.

Even if that means my child is having a child.

So, let the adventure begin again...

This is where it all started...

Mark, Lynn and our pet, Peeve, 1984

Princess Carrie

2010-04-18T20:53:00.002-04:00

I have trouble resizing photos so please go here for a few of Carrie's prom photos -- I think she looks like a princess -- don't you?!

It's the un-American way | The Augusta Chronicle

2010-04-17T13:42:00.001-04:00

It's the un-American way | The Augusta Chronicle

I'm no editorialist -- so couldn't have said this any better. It's just the truth, plain and simple. If you want your voice to be heard, then you have to give dissenting opinions their voice, too. Two-way street, every day of the week...

Those who make us want to read...

2010-04-12T20:02:00.009-04:00

Most of the books I choose to read, I end up liking -- maybe I'm just a good chooser -- or maybe I just know what I'll like and what I won't. To the best of my memory, the only book that's been a "wallbanger" for me was Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. Yes, I'm well aware that it's a classic -- and I'm also well aware that life is way too short to read books you actually want to heave against a wall. The problem with Anna Karenina, strangely enough, was that it contained way too much detail. I was suffocating between the pages -- with no chance to use my own imagination. I've discovered that the best authors are the ones who provide just enough detail and then let the reader fill in the blanks.

Anybody whose read this blog or my forum knows how much I love medieval history -- especially that of England. If I don't force myself to read outside of that box, that's all I'd ever read -- which isn't a bad thing necessarily but, occasionally, I like to expand my horizons -- mostly, I must admit, by still going medieval but doing so in France and Italy.

And, then one day, out of the blue, I chose to read a book which was set during a time period which I have long avoided -- World War II and the Holocaust. I can't even remember which book it was -- maybe it was City of Shadows or My Enemy's Cradle -- or perhaps The Kommandant's Girl -- and maybe picking those particular books came about because I watched a film called Zwartboek (Black Book). Whatever the combination, there I was in a world which had been patiently waiting for me to pay attention.

So, okay, I'm paying attention now.

All of those books I've mentioned touched me, shook me, made me wonder why some people become monsters and some become silent. I've always said that none of us, no matter what we think we'd do in any given situation, really don't know until we're smack dab in the middle of it. But we all hope that, in the face of such depravity and horror, we would stand up and say something. Or maybe we'd learn a lesson about judging others -- because all of us would do whatever it took to protect those we love. Just look into your children's eyes -- even if they're grown -- and you'll know it to be true.

One of the novels I read was Those Who Save Us by Jenna Blum. It's been a few weeks since I finished it -- and I've meant to write about it before now (again, I'm not a reviewer -- just a reader) -- but other things were going on and I didn't take the time to say what needs to be said. And what needs to be said is very simple:

READ THIS BOOK

And, if you ever think, "oh I know what I'd do in that situation", think again. Because you don't.

I really can't even come up with the words to say what I want to say so these few I've written will have to suffice. The book was an emotional punch, beginning to end. And, if you think you don't want to be punched, please reconsider.

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

And, if you can't remember the past, then read about it.

But, yes, I know. This is coming from someone who minored in history in college and who finds history endlessly entertaining and enlightening. And from someone who believes you can learn by looking forward and backward.

Jenna Blum's second novel, The Stormchasers, will be out in May. Different era, different place. Can't wait.

All About What's Green

2010-04-06T10:05:00.006-04:00

I've been neglecting my blog writing -- the main reason being because I'm writing again -- and, by that, I mean a story, a novel, a tale -- whatever you want to call it. I've almost gotten ten chapters written and that's always a milestone for me.

But, anyhoo...

Unless you've been totally out of communication, you've probably read about a golfer named Tiger. If you don't know where he is, I'll tell you. He's right here, in my hometown of Augusta, Georgia, for that little tournament known as the Masters.

If you detect a bit of sarcasm, you'd be correct.

Now, I don't have any problem with golf -- or Tiger Woods, for that matter -- he has a wife and children to answer to, not me. I don't really even mind that my town becomes a tourist (and media, especially this year) mecca for one week out of the year -- the Masters brings in a lot of money to the area. Augusta gets "cleaned up" the week before the tournament -- somehow they always find the funds for that even if, during the rest of the year, they just let a lot of areas go to seed. People rent out their houses (a point of pride and superiority for some) to fans and golfers and Augusta becomes the center of the golfing universe amid the azaleas, wisterias and dogwoods -- and massive amounts of pollen.

So, what is it that I don't like about the Masters? I'm going to focus on one thing, though there are others -- but I don't have all day and neither do you. So here goes.

Women are not allowed to be members of the Augusta National (which is the actual name of the golf course). Now, I don't want to be a member -- no desire and no use for it -- but I hate to think that a female can play the course only if she's in the company of a male member.

You may interpret and visualize that last line any way you prefer.

What I hate more than that is how many women are fine with such a thing. Now, I can understand older women feeling that way but, when a younger one says it doesn't matter, I so want to climb on their heads and beat them about the neck and shoulders. I don't call myself a feminist -- I actually do think there are appropriate times and places for the sexes to be separate. However, there is a difference in playing in a tournament (for which you have to qualify) and being a member of a golf course. I'm not saying women should play in the Masters itself, I'm just saying to keep someone from joining a golf club based on sex, in this day and age, just goes against my grain. If golf was something only a man could do, that would be one thing but women can play golf, too. I'm not talking ability here, either. I'm sure a lot of men who are members of the National can't play worth squat -- but they had some sort of connection (people/money) which got them a stamp of approval on their application form.

Oh, yeah, in case you didn't know -- it was only a few years ago -- not fifty -- that they had to change the rules about blacks being able to be members. They had to in order to accommodate Tiger Woods. See, people would have screamed bloody murder about that (and, rightfully so) but women? Eh...whatever...

I compare the Augusta National to the Vatican:

A small plot of land, in the middle of a city, ruled tyrannically by a group of old farts. And, best of all, even if you make a mistake (in your private or public life), you're sheltered and protected.

Well, what can you say. It's not about what's right. It's all about what's green.

Set to Kill

2010-03-31T09:52:00.008-04:00

Well, it's over.

Volleyball, that is. The big regional competition was in Charlotte, NC, last weekend. Carrie's team played very well on Friday and Saturday but, on Sunday, they just didn't have it together and they were eliminated after the first match. Well, you know what they say, you win some, you lose some...

I would have loved to see them win at least one match -- because this was Carrie's last hurrah with the CSRA Heat, the volleyball club she's played in for five years -- it would have been nice to have exited winning, rather than losing but, again, that's just the way it is.

Her tears were contagious after the last game -- before I knew it, I was sobbing like a baby. Hugging her, I told her it wasn't because they had lost but because it was the end of an era, not only for her but for me. My oldest daughter played for the Heat (then called by a different name) and for various reasons we didn't get to go to many of her games but, with Carrie, we pretty much made them all -- that's what happens, I guess -- the last child at home becomes, for awhile, an "only" child and, with that, gets all the benefits.

I've never been the "team mom" or "room mother" type but, during the last few years, I've served as team mom three times (including this year) and was pretty much it for one other time when the titular team mom pretty much turned it over to me toward the end. For the most part, I had parents who responded and did what was asked. When parents do what they're supposed to, it makes the job a lot easier.

Will I miss it? No, not the team mom part -- nor will I miss the early morning traveling to various locations -- or sitting on my butt all day (it's amazing how sitting can wear you out). I will miss seeing Carrie play. Maybe one day, Shannon and Carrie can play a game together -- now that would be a sight! The long and short of it -- considering Shannon is 5'10" and Carrie is...not.

Carrie served as setter the last few years, not only on the Heat team but on her high school team as well. She goes to a Catholic school and their motto is the same as Notre Dame -- the Fightin' Irish. So, we called her our "Irish Setter". If you don't know volleyball, the setter is basically the quarterback of a volleyball team. She pretty much has her hands on every ball -- she determines where to set it so that the hitter can hit it. She also had some moves of her own -- tipping the ball over the net when the other team didn't expect it. Carrie is actually left-handed but she uses her right-hand a lot -- but with tipping, it could be one or the other. Carrie was a good server, too -- something she also did right-handed. Like everybody else, there were days she was on and some she was off -- but when she was on, her serves were hard to return.

Volleyball is a great sport because all shapes and sizes can play. They need tall girls, for hitting and "killing", but they need shorter ones, too, because tall girls have trouble "digging" the ball. And, quite often, the setter will be one of the shorter girls -- on this team, this year, Carrie was the shortest one of all. But sometimes tremendous power comes in small packages.

So, at the end of the game last Sunday, I cried. I cried because it was the end. And, somewhere in there, I cried for all the other volleyball, basketball, baseball and soccer games that are over, too.
They do grow up, don't they? And, that's the way it's supposed to be.

And then there will be grandchildren and it starts all over again. Well, sort of. At least then, I won't have to be responsible for anything...

And I'm certainly not going to be Team Granny...

But, then again...

Breaking through the block...

2010-03-24T11:20:00.006-04:00

I've written four complete chapters of my new story -- I wrote one of those yesterday and will probably finish the fifth one sometime today. I'm elated. It's been awhile since the voices spoke to me. I've blamed it on a lot of things -- stress, burnout, writer's block, expectations -- and, of all things, antidepressants.

For whatever reason, when I'm on a higher dose of antidepressants, my creativity goes out the window -- and, after researching a little, I've found that this isn't all that unusual but, like many medication side effects, it greatly depends on the person. It's a vicious cycle because I need the meds to keep me from really going over the edge and, yet, I need to write, for sanity's sake. So, which one gets sacrificed? Well, I'm going for the best of both worlds -- lowering my dosage and seeing if that will let those two worlds collide peacefully.

The funny thing is that I'm still on the higher dose right now but the voices have broken through, chipping away at the wall between us. I have a sneaking suspicion that my decision to lower the dose somehow gave them permission to speak. I know I'm probably sounding completely off my rocker about now but ask anybody who writes (whether published or not) and they'll probably tell you something similar.

Yesterday I was telling a real person (with the same name as one of my characters) about the other one who isn't real (but who can speak). I told her that the characters name themselves and she repeated that back to me -- only with a question mark at the end. I guess I should watch what I say. But, she then told me that the name had come from her grandmother -- and, guess what, that's where my character got it, too.

Small world.

Anyway, I'm writing and that's what's important. I have a very small "fan base" even without being published -- I don't do it for praise -- and not for money -- I just do it because I love it and if people want to read it, that's just icing on the cake. Writing centers me. It's a part of me. And it's totally normal, for me, to have these stories floating around in my head, just waiting for one of them to proclaim, "it's my turn". I've got stories that have been in there for years, still waiting. Why the upstarts get a chance first, I just don't know.

This week has been an unusual week. The unexpected death in the family -- because I can't think of it in any other way, though those ties are somewhat broken -- has been more difficult than I would have thought. It's a weird situation because I feel the loss but I can't really find the words to express how it has affected me -- so I've just sort of curled up inside myself. Sometimes, sadly, it takes someone's death to make you realize, too late, that you've missed them. But, I think all of these emotions may have somehow meshed in my brain and maybe that has given the necessary boost to this new story. Ah, well, whatever...the neurons are firing and that's enough for me.

It's not only a small world but a strange one.

Goodbye, Wrennie

2010-03-20T21:58:00.002-04:00

I read something on Facebook this morning that made me think something was wrong. I even told my husband that I thought something was going on but I wasn't sure what it was. And, with the peculiar things people often post on Facebook -- things that make no sense 0r things people seem to think everybody wants to know -- it's hard to separate the wheat from the chaff.

It didn't take long, though, to find out what was happening. My former sister-in-law died this morning. At the moment, it's not known what happened -- at 6 AM she was alive, at 9 AM, she was not -- and we may never know for sure.

Wrennie was only a couple of years older than I am. I'd known her since Mark's brother married her some twenty years ago. Their subsequent divorce a couple of years ago was as sudden and shocking as this news today.

It was because of this divorce that we ended up with their much-loved black pug -- then called K.C but who we renamed Darcy. Unfortunately, last summer we lost Darcy (see "canines" in labels).

Today, I know Wrennie got a pug kiss on arrival.

RIP

Paradise Found

2010-03-15T10:29:00.008-04:00

I don't usually write book reviews -- and this isn't really going to be one, either -- but when I read a book -- or a series -- which really captivates me, I just have to share.

As you may know, my favorite time period is the (English) medieval period, followed by the American Revolution, then the French Revolution -- anything else I read just sort of sneaks in from time to time -- I've had a fascination lately with novels about World War II -- not about battles or politics, necessarily, but with the novels centered on the lives of individuals. As I posted on another blog, perhaps my reluctance to read novels set during this time period was because I just wasn't ready. I know about World War II -- studied it in school -- but perhaps I had to wait until now to really see what happened and let the whole devastating thing crack my heart in two.

But I digress, as usual. The books you see to your left are collectively called The Paradise Trilogy, written by Thalassa Ali. Set in India and Afghanistan during the 19th century, when the British Empire sought to control both (ostensibly for trade purposes), this is the story of Mariana Givens -- someone we would probably call a "rebel" today -- whose life becomes enmeshed with an Indian baby -- and the baby's father. These novels are so much more than that -- but I'll let you click on the author's link above to learn more as I'm not very adept at review-writing -- I know what I like and what I don't but can't always put it into the right words.

When I began reading the first novel in the series -- A Singular Hostage -- I didn't really know what to expect and, in fact, wondered why I had picked up the book at all. Years ago, I'd watched the miniseries based on The Raj Quartet (later time period) and also the miniseries The Far Pavilions (earlier time period) and enjoyed both but I never read the novels (although I have them). A few years ago, I read Olivia and Jai (and its sequel which I don't even like to discuss, it distressed me so) and Zemindar so my interest in India was piqued -- but, it wasn't until I picked up A Singular Hostage that I returned to that place and that era.

As I continued reading, though, I became totally engrossed and moved on quickly to the next book, A Beggar at the Gate and, finally, Companions of Paradise -- it's always nice when you discover a series after all the novels are published and you can read one right after the other. I wish, with all my heart, that there was a fourth one coming -- I want to know what else happened to Mariana, Hassan and Saboor...but, alas, perhaps, I will only be able to fill out the rest of the story in my own imagination.

Which is very fertile, by the way.

Not everybody likes historical novels the way I do so it's always hard to recommend those kinds of books to people who have different preferences. All I can say is that I was captivated by The Paradise Trilogy -- and, if you want to learn more about that time in history, I don't know that you could read anything better.

Speaking of Paradise -- but in a totally different time and place -- I highly recommend Sara Donati's five book Into the Wilderness series -- which centers on the Bonner clan in the small community of Paradise in late 17th - early 18th century New York. Wonderful storytelling...and a must for historical fiction buffs -- and a great series to start with if you're not!

I cannot imagine a life without books...how about you?

The Twain Shall Meet....

2010-03-07T09:00:00.000-05:00

Last August, I reached the milestone of my 50th birthday. Though I celebrated with family and friends, it was really a day like any other. Just another number. Of course, I can't deny that I feel the effects of aging but, overall, I think it's very true that "you're as young as you feel". And, anyway, you can't stop time so you might as well embrace it.

Twenty-five years ago today, I embraced something entirely different.

Today my eldest turns 25.

There was a moment of pure terror when she was placed in my arms for the first time. A moment of wondering, what have we done? And how in the world do you get this tiny being into adulthood without messing everything up? And never mind paying for it.

I was 25 years old when Shannon was born. And, now I've had 25 years of watching her grow (literally -- she's 5'10"!) into the beautiful young woman she is today. A married woman. And, at some point, we'll be getting that call that she's going to be a mother herself. I didn't really know how to be a mother when she was born and I don't know how to be a grandmother, either, but I imagine I'll learn. And probably pretty quickly, when the time comes. After the numbness wear off a bit.

This birthday may just be another number but the memories of the past and the hope of the future are all rolled into one on this special day.

Happy Birthday, Shannon -- my firstborn -- the one we had to practice on -- and to learn from -- and are still doing so 25 years later.

I love you!

Whale of a Tale

2010-03-01T10:22:00.009-05:00

The death of trainer Dawn Brancheau at SeaWorld was horrific. It raises the age-old question of whether wild animals should be kept in confinement in marine parks, zoos or circuses.

I'm split on it -- on one hand, no, they probably shouldn't but, on the other hand, an awful lot of study and research goes on at many of these parks -- SeaWorld, in particular -- studies which could not be conducted out in the wild. I suppose it comes down to this question: do the needs of the few outweigh the needs of the many? Well, I guess that depends on whether the ACLU gets involved...

But I digress...

I don't want to make light of this tragedy. I'm not sure if anybody will ever really know why it happened. Did the whale grab her ponytail in playfulness, then the hair got caught while the whale thrashed around to free her? Was it just some other kind of playfulness gone wrong? Or was it a full-fledged attack? This whale had been involved in two other deaths -- a huge warning sign or just coincidence? I guess these kinds of questions and others are being asked in all marine parks. I think we can all probably agree that this trainer died doing something she loved.

I've been to SeaWorld in Orlando several times -- not sure how long Tilikum has been there but we may have seen him -- and it's possible I may even have a photo of him but I'd be hard-pressed to tell one whale from another. I do have a whale of a story I can share.

Sometime around 1989, on a visit to SeaWorld, Mark had gone to the restroom so I sat on one of the bleachers, right in front of the orca performance area, to wait for him. At the time, Wesley was about 2 years old and Shannon about 4 (this was pre-Carrie). At that time, after the Shamu show, the stadium was not cordoned off -- visitors could walk directly through the stadium and watch the whales in-between shows. In later years, when there was not a show going on, the stadium was off-limits -- though there was a tank around the other side where you could still watch the whales.

With Shannon beside me and Wesley in my lap, we were sitting only a few feet from the aquarium -- separated only by the walkway. I don't remember how many whales were in there that day but I do know this -- a mother, with her offspring, stopped right in front of us, waiting for her baby to come close to the plexiglass. Maybe I was one-with-the-orca that day but I knew exactly what she was doing -- she was telling me that she saw my babies and here was hers. In our own way, we acknowledged each other and the pair swam on. There is not a soul in this world that can tell me this is not what was happening -- so don't even try!

Now, I admit that I can swear like a sailor under the right conditions but the only time I remembering cursing out loud, in public, also happened at SeaWorld (possibly during this same visit). In the sea lion area, you could buy fish to feed them -- you could almost drop a fish directly into the sea lion's mouth -- nowadays you have to throw the fish. Sea Lions may be adorable but they also are big and have very large teeth. All I remember is that Shannon was leaning over to give one a fish and the dang thing jumped up to get it. I'm talking thisclose to my child's hand. And, yes, I said an expletive. Very loudly. And I dare anyone to blame me for it.

I'd go back to SeaWorld. I can't be the judge or jury about what should be done about that particular whale or any others in captivity. It's very sad when something like this happens and it serves to remind us that these creatures, no matter how long they've been around humans, are still wild at heart.

Dear Tyler Grady

2010-02-27T18:37:00.004-05:00

I'm sure the last person you want weighing in on the American Idol debacle is someone old enough to be your mother. But weigh in, I shall.

I've been watching AI on and off since it premiered. Some years I've watched without emotional involvement, some years I've gotten a little too caught up. This was probably going to be another year of over-the-top emotions. That is until last Thursday night. Right now, though the TiVo is still set on season pass for AI, I'm not so sure I even want to watch.

I've never been 100% sure that AI is on the up and up as far as the voting or behind-the-scenes manipulations go, however, from the shocked looks on the two young men who should have been eliminated, I'm thinking nobody expected you to be gone so soon. Personally, I expected you to be in the Top Ten and was already thinking ahead to attending the AI tour in Charlotte, NC (where I've seen the show twice before). Now, I probably won't even look at the tour schedule.

People usually vote, during this competition, in two ways -- they vote each week for whoever they thought had the best vocals or they vote for one contestant, no matter what. I'm in the "one contestant" group. I picked you, in the auditions, and would have stuck with you through the whole thing. I was stunned that, for you, the whole thing ended with the first week of voting. I've yet to figure out why the judges criticized you for the very thing they praised you for before.

I'm still not sure what happened and maybe I'm just deluded. Maybe, because I was a teenager in the 70s, that type of music means a lot to me. Maybe because you remind me of my 22 year old son (before he cut all of his hair off -- and who, as far as I know, can't carry a note in a bucket but has taught himself to play the guitar -- and will take AC/DC over anything modern), I couldn't help but like you. Maybe it was simply your great voice. For whatever the reason, you were my pick -- even if I decide to watch AI for the rest of this season, I won't be voting.

I believe that everything happens for a reason. Now, I could make this really personal and say that God didn't want me to get overwrought this year so he removed the contestant who would have accomplished that for me. But I don't think God works that way -- I think he just had another plan for you. I hope that plan will include a continuation of your musical hopes and dreams.

But, for now, go back to school, get your degree and don't fall out of trees. And don't get discouraged.

Well, that's the mama in me coming out.

But the fan in me just wants to scream YOU ROCK!!

So, take care. Kiss your mama. And keep on keeping on.

I believe in angels...

2010-02-21T10:20:00.004-05:00

I had a troubled pregnancy from the beginning. But things calmed down and, for a few months, everything went smoothly. I had a little morning sickness and I didn't gain much weight -- a marked contrast from my previous two pregnancies. But then, in mid-February, trouble started again. At the hospital, the monitor showed that I was having regular contractions, though I felt nothing. For a week, they tried to suppress the birth.

But she'd have none of it.

Due on April 13, she was born on February 21.

That was 1992

And today Carrie turns 18 years old.

People have insisted that I must have been terrified that she wouldn't make it. I never was. Whether it was faith or stubbornness, I don't know. I do know that the night before she was born, I was visited by angels. I don't claim that it was anything but a dream but, then again, who's to ask how God sends His messages? Sometimes, perhaps, the only time we'll really listen is when we're asleep and our mouths aren't moving.

The angels that I saw were not lily-white. They were grimy -- their feathers ruffled and soiled.

I knew exactly why.

They were working hard and when you work hard, you get dirty.

And I knew everything would be okay.

Happy Birthday, Carebear!

The Olympics Always Make Me Cry

2010-02-15T21:40:00.000-05:00

Back in the summer of 1984, I was newly pregnant and spilled milk could make me cry. Add the Summer Olympics (in Los Angeles -- the one that was boycotted) to the mix and I spent a lot of time bawling. Anytime I heard the national anthem, I teared up. Every time somebody -- no matter from what country -- had a gold medal placed around their neck, I boo-hooed. And the commercials? Forget about it! Sappy and sugary and made to tug on the heartstrings, they could make me sob with alarming regularity.

I remember one commercial in particular to this very day. Two farmers, up at the crack of dawn, look at each other and ask, "is it time yet?" Yes, one says and they make their way to a lonely country road where a lone torch bearer runs by. The two men applaud and the runner continues on his way. Took me down every single time it aired. I don't remember what the commercial was for -- Coke, maybe? I bet it's on YouTube -- but I'd have to figure out exactly what search words to use. Maybe farmers applaud Olympic torch. I know you're going to try that right now, arent' you?

There are a few ads this year that make me weepy -- notably the one where all the Olympic participants are kids and the tag line is "to mothers, they are always children". That one is for Tide detergent -- I know that now but ask me in twenty-five years and I'll probably give you a blank stare. But I'll still want to weep.

I've mentioned that I'm not into sports -- unless I have a child playing. Other than that, I'm just not interested. But there is something about the Olympics that make me tune in -- more so the winter games than the summer ones -- probably because snow is so alien to me (except for last weekend! Whoo-hoo!) I guess winning a medal at the Olympics is sort of like winning an Oscar -- the few...the proud...the spandex...

This year tragedy struck the Olympics with the death of the Georgian luger. Watching his team walk into the stadium was heart-wrenching. And, yes, tears were welling. The team's somber faces said more than any words ever could but I think they did the right thing by attending the opening ceremonies, if for nothing else than in Nodar Kumaritashvili's honor. Looking at some of these sports, I don't see how there aren't more injuries -- or fatalities -- every year. But, I guess those who love the thrill of victory can't dwell too much on the agony of defeat.

I'll TiVo the figure skating during the Olympics but everything else I'll watch as I have a chance. One thing I do know is that there is way too much talk by the commentators. The other night, the sound went out and for a few blessed seconds there was only the skaters gliding on the ice. True, it meant no music either, but it really didn't matter. I know these commentators are necessary but do they have to be so intrusive? Can't we just see some of this stuff without the never-ending prattle? Can anyone say mute button?

And tell me, really, has there ever been a better name than Apolo Ohno?

I think not.

It's almost enough to make me cry.

Listen

2010-02-14T13:06:00.009-05:00

I've never been a romantic -- candlelight dinners and sweet nothings just don't do it for me and never did. Most of the things I find romantic probably wouldn't pass muster with most people -- for example, for me, Dracula (1992, with Gary Oldman as Drac) is one of the most romantic films of all time. It's hard for me to explain why -- beyond my fascination for vampires in general -- but the words Dracula utters to Mina, "I have crossed oceans of time to find you," pretty much says it all. Who wouldn't love a guy like that, fangs and all?!

There's still a little snow on the ground here but the temps are in the low 50s so I don't think it'll remain much longer. It's amazing how bright everything looks when reflected off of snow. I'm glad we got a little of it -- I doubt if there'll be any more for us this year -- but you never know. If there is, we'll deal with it like we always do -- everything will shut down and we'll all get a little loopy. At any rate, if there had been snow today and we had nothing to do but sit by the fire, I probably would've found that romantic.

Perhaps what is truly romantic is whatever is different from a day to day life. That could be, for some, getting flowers and candy but, for others, might be just having your significant other do a load of laundry (and put the clothes up) or empty the dishwasher (and put the dishes up). Nothing really says I love you more than doing something which you don't necessarily want to do but you do it anyway because you know it would make someone happy.

Sometimes I think we spend way too much time in a frenzy of gift-giving that we forget to really figure out what makes a person feel the most loved.

Maybe sometimes, we just need to ask.

And then we need to listen to the answer.

Personally, I'm going to try to do better on that account -- not just on Valentine's Day but every day.

Maybe, here and there, I'll get it just right.

They got it right...this time...

2010-02-12T21:56:00.001-05:00

Why? Don't know.

2010-02-10T16:07:00.002-05:00

After the group performance tonight on Hollywood Week, he may be gone...but, for now, here's my early pick...Tyler Grady.

And now for my mantra...I will not go berserk...I will not go berserk...

Hot dog...

2010-02-07T19:49:00.008-05:00

Hearing about the major snowstorms in parts of the country made me think about something very unusual that happened back in 1973. It snowed in my hometown of Macon in central Georgia. Not a dusting of snow, either, but enough to make watching dachshunds a spectator event (and we had two of them -- Dolly and Missy -- this was before the naming of dogs became so important). We had to make a path for them just so they wouldn't get lost in the snow drifts.

I can't remember if the snowfall was predicted, was worse than it was supposed to be or nobody saw it coming but I do know it took everybody off-guard (which snow around there -- or here -- does, anyway). I was 13 at the time, in the 8th grade -- and what I do remember is that we actually had to make up snow days on Saturdays. We grumbled mightily but I think most of us thought it was worth it.

It was like living in another world -- though it stopped snowing, it was days before it melted. For those who are used to seeing snow every year, our fascination with the stuff is probably quite amusing. For us, it was enough to make the most sane person become unhinged.

I'm sure I took photos back then -- probably with one of those old Kodak cameras -- but where they are, I have no idea. But I still clearly remember walking in a winter wonderland in a place where such things just don't happen very often. In my memory, that was a one-time experience.

There's a part of me which wishes something like that would happen again in these parts -- but, only if I have plenty of food in the house, the electricity stays on and I don't have to go anywhere. A tall order, to be sure.

I think back on that time with fond memories, though the adults back then probably remember it quite differently. It's too bad we tend to lose our wonder as we get older.

And that's a good a reason as any to get a dachshund.

I guess Grumpy is better than Dopey...

2010-02-05T10:25:00.006-05:00

It's a rainy, chilly day here in my part of Georgia. Anybody who knows me knows this is my favorite kind of day. In fact, if it were colder, it would be even better. I'm sure there are others who share my point-of-view but I seldom here anything but the desire for warmer weather. Yeah, the flowers blooming in the spring are beautiful but I still prefer winter. I think it fits my leave-me-alone-and-let-me-do-my-own-thing personality.

There's an out-of-town volleyball game tomorrow. I'm trying to get myself psyched about it but am having a hard time. I love watching Carrie play but I'm just not in the mood for traveling or sitting all day long. I'm the team mom this year -- I've done it twice before -- but, for whatever reason, the parents this time are not as cooperative as they really should be. Which means I'll end up taking up the slack -- which I don't mind doing -- it's just time and money, after all. I've actually thought about resigning but nobody else would do it so I'll try to muddle through. It'll be over in April and then I'm free. I'll miss watching Carrie play but won't miss the early morning out-of-town drives.

This is Super Bowl Sunday -- and an excellent opportunity to describe the difference between ignorance and apathy -- I don't know and I don't care. If someone invited me to a Super Bowl party, I'd respectfully decline. Nothing personal, you understand -- I just dislike football intensely. And baseball. And golf. And pretty much anything else that involves a ball, other than throwing one to a dog. And they don't really give a flying fig about one either. They're more into tug of war. The big dog always wins but they haven't figured that out yet -- or either they know it's not whether you win or lose but how you play the game. Which is with a lot of vocalizing -- I thought I heard one of them actually say a word this morning. In English. I don't know -- it could have been the bird. I've heard him bark, then laugh about it.

I'm having a hard time getting through the book I'm reading -- The Endless Forest. It's not the story or the writing -- they are both excellent -- but there are some characters' plotlines I'm barely remembering -- Martha, for one. And Ethan. If anybody can help me out, just give me a holler. If not, I may have to trudge upstairs and look through the previous books. I guess this is why people re-read but, if I did that, I'd never read a new book. I love the character of Nathaniel Bonner in this series -- he's one of my favorites along with Jamie Fraser (Outlander) -- even if he is an "old man" now. If I could have another child and it was a boy, I'd beg to name him Nathaniel. But it's not going to happen -- can anybody say 50 and no working parts left? Well, there's always a future dog to be named -- I guess if I can name one Daphne, I can name one Nathaniel. There's always a story about why I name dogs what do -- I've passed this trait on to my eldest -- and probably the other two, as well. If I ever name a dog "Prince" or "Fluffy", you'll know the end is near.

Well, I'm going to try to have a good weekend -- I'm working up to it. Hope y'all have a good one!

Politics As Usual

2010-02-03T20:03:00.005-05:00

These are political blogs and websites I check out periodically. Yes, I am conservative so most of these lean that way but there are a couple which lean to the left -- but I like them because they don't use name-calling and hate-speech as a substitution for intelligence.

Nothing could be finer...

2010-02-02T22:48:00.005-05:00

than to be in Charleston, SC, for the Bold/Fresh tour...

Me? Conservative? You betcha!

Click here for a few photos and descriptions

Nothing much

2010-01-27T09:40:00.006-05:00

I've been a little silent lately -- what's up with that? Just a lot going on -- nothing major -- but figured this would be a good time for catch-up.

Daphne's surgery went well. The day after, she was her old self -- probably too much of her old self that soon after being spayed but it's hard to contain exuberance. Wouldn't it be great if, every once in awhile, we could have just an hour of seeing the world the way a puppy does?

Last week, my brother, sister-in-law (from Arizona) and niece (from Colorado) came for a visit. My brother is 14 years older than I am -- and my niece is only ten years younger. And most of my first cousins are considerably older than I am (closer in age to my mother than to me). So, when I think about it, our family dynamics are somewhat different, I think, than most people. But it's all I've ever known.

I also had a visit from my friend, Denise. We've known each other since 6th grade. We've been through the Osmond Brothers all the way to KISS. We don't live close to each other now but when we get together, it's like the conversation starts right back up with "as I was saying..."

I've been trying to stay away from politics -- I figure we the people will speak in the voting booth -- and they did in Massachusetts (and they had every right to "speak" as they did). I don't know about you but if I hear the words inherited or transparency again, I might not be held responsible -- since one is used way too much and the other has not been looked-up in the dictionary lately. I've also noticed that when I read things written by liberals about conservatives, they often say the very same things that the conservatives are saying about them. I wish people would remember that all opinions carry the same weight. You may not agree with someone but it doesn't make you right and the other person wrong. Very few things in life are black and white -- most are a lovely shade of gray. All the people I know in "real life" -- whether liberal or conservative -- are very nice, normal, thoughtful people so I wish folks on both sides would stop holding up the far-right or the far-left as "typical."

Carrie, my youngest, went on her senior trip to Disney World. I was extremely jealous, I must say. I love Disney World -- it's only an 8 hour drive from us so I don't know why we don't just pack up and go more often. It's been several years since we've been to Orlando but we are discussing going to Universal this summer. I am not a competitive person but the Men in Black ride gets my juices flowing big-time. The last time we were there, I actually apologized to a "single rider" who got put in with us. We were so into scoring big points that we sort of went overboard -- and knowing where the photo was going to be taken (during the ride) -- and mugging for it -- didn't help. The guy looked a bit shell-shocked when he disembarked.

Seems like a lot of people I know are having medical problems -- or have family members who are. Our across-the-street neighbor, pregnant with her 5th child (they have four boys) is going to lose this baby -- it's not growing but, at the moment, still has a heartbeat. Another neighbor is worried about a possible tumor. A friend's sister has been diagnosed with breast cancer. Another friend's mother has acute leukemia. Sometimes I'm not sure what to pray for -- often it's just for strength in the face of adversity.

I have jury duty coming up in a couple of weeks. It seems that I get called every two or so years -- while some people never get called. I really don't mind it too much -- it is a civic duty -- but it's difficult for people who have to take off from jobs or have to arrange care for their children. I don't have to worry about either of those any more but I don't like the feeling of being herded around like a bunch of dumb cows. I guess they do that because some people just don't listen to instructions but it's another reason why jury duty is not very palatable. The last few times I've been summoned, I never even made it into the "box" but, in the past, I've served on three different juries -- the first one when I was eight months pregnant. The judge told me to raise my hand if I needed to go to the restroom.

Speaking of restrooms -- in mine, there's a place where sections of the mirror come together and if you stand right in front of the crack, you look thinner...so I spend a lot of time in that spot...

Seriously, though, I wish there was a magic wand which made me hate overeating and love exercise. Unfortunately, my emotions on those two things are exact opposites.

Looking forward to a trip to Charleston this weekend. You'll never guess why we're going...

It goes without saying...

2010-01-20T09:01:00.004-05:00

but bears repeating...

I just got back from the vet's office after dropping off Daphne, 0ur newest canine -- by age and arrival -- for spaying. It's always hard for me to leave them there -- even for something like this. Those brown eyes, looking up at me as if to say, "what the..."

Adopting dogs and spaying/neutering are my "soapbox" issues. I know that there are people who just can't imagine sharing their home with a mutt but you might be surprised how many purebred dogs have been lost or abandoned and now sit on death row. Their pedigree does not give them an edge. Anyway, at the moment, three of my five dogs are mutts -- they are the smartest and healthiest by far. And I wouldn't take a million dollars for any of them. I'm serious. I wouldn't. They are part of the family and shall remain so until their last breath. I also have two purebred Boston Terriers -- both rescues. That I haven't had most of my dogs since puppyhood makes no difference. We bonded just fine.

I realize if purebred dogs did not have puppies, then the breed would eventually die out but I'm not so sure that's a bad thing. Honestly, I'm not sure why people breed dogs unless they show them or it's their livelihood (and there's a fine line between a livelihood and atrocious puppy mills). And breeding a dog because it's a "good experience for children" is not a good reason. What's good is teaching them to be responsible pet owners -- which includes spaying and neutering. Sure kids love puppies and puppies love kids but there are plenty of puppies to choose from who are already here and who desperately need a loving home.

And what about finding the "right fit"? I understand that people (ages, temperament), living arrangements (big dog? small dog?) and whether the dog has a purpose beyond being a pet (in other words, a working dog) have to be taken into consideration but if I had made the decision to get another dog, I would be very unlikely to walk away from an adoption center without taking one with me. It's just not in my psyche to worry whether a dog will fit in -- they aren't a pair of shoes which you decide you don't like after all. Sure, there's an adjustment period but most of the time, it's short and sweet. However, I fully accept that sometimes unexpected and awful things happen -- no matter how good things seem. That, I have learned, is just life in general.

As anybody who's been reading this blog knows, I'm pretty passionate about this. No, I don't feel superior to people who purchase purebred dogs -- everybody is free to make their choices and I respect that -- but I always wonder how folks seem to turn a blind eye to the fact that four million cats and dogs—about one every eight seconds—are put down in U.S. shelters each year.

Maybe they feel that rescuing one dog is just a drop in the bucket -- so why bother?

I don't think any rescued pet would agree.

Haiti

2010-01-17T18:22:00.003-05:00

I haven't been ignoring the situation in Haiti. Every time I've contemplated a blog post, I don't know what to say. The images are horrific -- some of them remind me of the aftermath of 9/11.

Sometimes I can't even wrap my head around the poverty and corruption which exist in Haiti. It's so far removed from the world I know -- the privilege that all of us who live in the USA (and many other places) take for granted. I've never been without clean water or shelter. The only time I've been without electricity is during an ice storm -- for three days -- which seemed like an eternity but was definitely not.

The US, as usual, has aid on the way -- though there will always be the naysayers who say it's not enough or it's not getting there quickly enough. I know I'm on the outside looking in but it seems to me the response was immediate -- unfortunately, we haven't invented Star Trek-like transporters yet. Nor magic wands.

I'm always gratified by the response of "regular" folk who send donations. My favorite organization is the Salvation Army -- I tried several times the other day to donate before finally getting through. I suppose that was a good sign -- it meant people were giving from the heart -- which is how it ought to be.

I encourage everybody to do what they can. We all have our different gifts and talents -- for some it's time, for others, money -- so use what you have to help. You will be blessed.

Here I go again...

2010-01-13T07:41:00.003-05:00

Last May, when American Idol ended and I was dismayed by the outcome, I swore that I would not watch AI again because I tend to get way too involved. I suppose I should have taken AI off the 'season pass' on TiVo, but I didn't, so the first show of the new season recorded last night And, well, once it recorded, what was I supposed to do? Delete it? Yeah. Right.

So, once again, a parade of folks who think they can sing, sprinkled with a few who actually can, flashed across the screen.

I haven't watched every season of AI. I started watching in the middle of the first season, then watched the next two, then burned out awhile and didn't watch at all. But, a couple of years ago, I started watching again -- and all was under control until Adam Lambert auditioned and I picked him immediately to win the competition. And, although he ended up second to Kris Allen, I think we all know who the real winner is. I like Kris well enough but Adam, oh, Adam... Yeah, I still got it bad and that ain't...a problem, as far as I'm concerned. But I may be seriously deluded.

But I have good reasons for watching this year -- or so I'm telling myself. Simon Cowell says this will be his last season on AI (although he'll be on another show -- The X-Factor -- next year). I want to see how Ellen Degeneres, with no musical background, handles the critiques of contestants. I want to hear Randy saw "dawg". And Kara? Well, she's yet to win me over -- and I already miss nutty Paula.

Well, I guess I could be watching worse things. And I think I have. But, at the same time, with all the horrid stuff going on in the world, it's actually not such a bad thing to have a ready-made escape, like AI, which requires no deep thought, can make me laugh and, if the winner is the wrong one, make me cry. For the record, I didn't cry last year. I was too numb.

This is where you might want to say step back, girlfriend...

Ah, well. Here I go again. I doubt if you could stop me. Probably the only thing that could would be Adam Lambert showing up for a private concert...

Two out of three of us living here would be delighted. And, yes, Shannon, I'll call you immediately...

Happy Birthday!!

2010-01-09T10:08:00.004-05:00

For those who've been reading this blog, you know I turned the big 5-0 last August. Now it's my husband's turn. He always jokes about how we were born in different decades -- though I'm only four months older than he is.

We'd hoped to go on little trip this weekend -- he took yesterday and Monday off -- but it turned out there's a volleyball tournament so off we go.

I feel bad because I haven't done a thing for him. Nothing. He's too hard to buy presents for -- he mentioned a new leather coat but I figured it would be better if he actually tried one on and found a style he liked. But, so far, I haven't been able to get him to even go look. I suppose I should have just bought one and then we could have taken it back. But, Christmas, 2008, I got him a jacket which didn't fit -- he was supposed to go with me to pick out a replacement but he never did -- and I never even took the thing back for a refund. Oh, well, the high school auction got something nice -- and I think it went for me than I paid for it.

He said he doesn't feel any different today than he did yesterday. I know the feeling.

Cooking with gas...

2010-01-07T09:58:00.005-05:00

I've always said that Augusta, Georgia is in some kind of odd "weather pocket". We tend to get the opposite of whatever weather is predicted -- or it's better/worse than anticipated. There's only one thing that's guaranteed -- it will be hot in the summer. The rest of the year? Well, you never really know until you're in the middle of it.

At the moment, according to local authorities -- but not weather.com -- we might have some snowfall during the night. Notice the word might. In other words, maybe we will and maybe we won't. What it really means is that nobody knows for sure.

Snow is rare here. Every few years, we might (there's that word again) get just enough snow to stick but, most of the time, if it snows at all, it's just pretty while it's falling and that's about it. The real problem is that even the threat of snow can cause otherwise sane (debatable) people to flip out. For the most part, people here don't know how to deal with snow. Which makes sense because it doesn't seem very wise to spend a lot of time and money preparing for something unlikely. However, when it does happen, on that rare occasion, the city almost comes to a standstill. Schools close before it happens (and then sometimes it doesn't happen) and, sometimes the kids have to make up snow days for nothing.

The biggest problem is not so much snow but ice. While a little snow is really not that onerous, even a little ice can be -- especially for drivers who are not used to it (and that includes me). A few years ago, we had a pretty big ice storm -- we ended up without electricity for three days -- Georgia Power was overwhelmed, I think, because, again, who would have thought? At any rate, it was no fun -- but it made me grateful for having a gas range and two gas fireplaces -- and a crank-up radio.

So, we shall see. When we wake up in the morning, we'll either have a beautiful, if light, blanket of snow. Or nothing. I'm betting on nothing. But who knows? Perhaps our little pocket will surprise us once again.

So, if I disappear for an appreciable length of time, it's probably because the electricity went off.

Hey -- can somebody invent a gas computer?!!

Thoughts to begin the year with...

2010-01-05T11:05:00.005-05:00

My first thought -- and prayer -- for the new year -- is please let it be a good one. It's probably too much to ask -- life is seldom good all the time (though God is). Anyway, here are some thoughts, things I'm looking forward to and things which are already bugging me...

Scrubs!

No, not the show (I've never seen it) but just that my husband will be wearing scrubs every day again! Now this may sound like a strange thing to be elated about but bear with me. When he was doing anesthesia, he wore scrubs every day -- anesthesia is a hospital-based service so he didn't even have an office -- he saw patients only in the hospital. When he did a fellowship in pain management, that changed. Though he still does procedures, he also sees patients in an office setting -- and, when he does that, he wears slacks and a button-down shirt. However, now that they are opening a block suite at the office, he will be going back and forth between procedures and office visits -- so he'll be back to wearing scrubs all day, every day -- and scrubs are a lot easier to launder! I am, on occasion, easily amused.

The state of the union

I wish I could stop worrying about this but it seems that things are getting worse day by day. Scary, scary stuff going on in DC. I hardly even know what to say anymore. But I feel really bad for future generations because they are going to get the brunt of all the foolish choices which are being made today.

The Endless Forest

The fifth and last book of the Into the Wilderness series by Sara Donati (penname of Rosina Lippi) is coming out this month -- I pre-ordered from Amazon way back when. As with Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series, I hate to see this one come to an end -- Nathaniel Bonner gave Jamie Fraser a run for his money in my book. However, I still haven't read DG's Echo in the Bone but I'll probably jump right into this one. I recommend this series to anybody who loves American history. Or anybody who loves to read.

Ball's up!

We're about to start our last year with the CSRA HEAT. I guess I should say Carrie is about to start her last year. It's bittersweet -- I won't miss getting up before dawn on Saturday mornings or the long days but I will miss watching her play. I'm sure, though, when we have an empty nest next year, we'll think of something to do on weekends. By the way, Mark hates it when someone yells "ball's up" -- it's like, where do you expect it to be? Kinda' goes without saying.

What up with that?

This skit (featuring Kenan Thompson) on Saturday Night Live literally makes me cry. I've seen him do it twice -- and I start laughing during the intro. There are no clips on Youtube. Which also makes me cry.

David Lee Smith on CSI: MIAMI

He has an episode coming up soon and I'm happy. For all my friends who are also DLS fans, here's a little something for you (from Mending Fences). Giddyup. By the way, anybody who wants to discuss DLS can come here and behave completely foolish along with the rest of us. University of Alabama graduate DLS is the only reason you'll ever hear this Georgia girl say, "Roll Tide."

2010 Reading List

2010-01-03T13:26:00.048-05:00

I can't compete with all the book bloggers out there who read hundreds of books every year but here's my list for 2010. I'll add to it as I read (you can access this post from a link under "Go here for...") I don't really do reviews but if you see anything I've read that you'd like to know more about, please ask and I'll give you my opinion. I also have a list on Facebook and I sometimes add a few thoughts there. Some of these books go right back on Paperbackswap after I've read them -- so if you're a member of PBS, look me up (LIS859). And, if you decide to join PBS, please consider clicking on the PBS link (on the right-hand side). I will get a couple of credits if you join that way!!

FICTION:

An Echo in the Bone
The Lace Makers of Glenmara
The Gargoyle
A Black Englishman
Jane Eyre's Daughter
The Little Stranger
The Botticelli Secret
The Virtuoso
The Welsh Girl
The Shack
Abandon the Night
Embrace the Night Eternal
Beyond the Night
Heat Wave
Cottage By the Sea
Confessions of Pagan Nun
Watermark
Consequences
The Courtier's Secret
Sarah's Key
Stone Heart
The Rose of Sebastopol
St. Patrick's Gargoyle
The House at Riverton
A Reliable Wife
Those Who Save Us
Companions of Paradise
The Queen's Dollmaker
Marrying Mozart
The Endless Forest
Farewell, My Queen
The Kommandant's Girl
The Diplomat's Wife

NON-FICTION (I don't tend to read non-fiction cover-to-cover -- I usually just look up specific things -- but occasionally I'll read the whole thing -- or, at least, start it with that intention):

Royal Panopoly
Embrace Grace (Bible Study)
Same Kind of Different as Me (Book Club/Bible Study)

Better

2009-12-31T10:16:00.007-05:00

Like a lot of people, I don't really make new year's resolutions. I've discovered that saying you're going to do something is not the same as doing it -- so why bother making a grand statement and then not live up to it? So, the only thing I'm really going to hope for is to be better.

Like better about losing weight -- or maintaining what I've lost already. I really have to do this because of my diabetes -- or else I'll end up having to take a pill every day -- which I'd like to avoid. I'd been doing pretty well but then, well, the Christmas season rolled around -- not only have I eaten way too much, I let exercising slide.

I'd like to be better about making a stab at getting published -- or even self-published. I'm not so sure that's in the cards for me -- it definitely won't be if I don't try. I also need to work on editing the work I'd like to submit -- it makes sense to try to have it as good as I can get it before submitting it.

I also need to write, write, write. If for no other reason than it centers and calms me.

I'd like to work on being a kinder person. I think I'm reasonably kind but maybe I need to be even kinder. While I can't change how others communicate, I can work on my own responses. It's not about trying to be a better person than someone else -- it's really just a matter of thinking before speaking (or typing). And realizing that another person's woes, while maybe insignificant in the scheme of things, are still very real. I need to keep in mind that there are times to add my two cents and there are times to keep my mouth firmly shut.

I need to be better about accepting there are differences between men and women -- especially in how we think. I've spent the better part of the morning being aggravated with my husband -- mainly because I've been expected to be a mind-reader. I'm a lot of things -- and I'm good at reading between the lines -- but a telepath, I am not. Anyway, this is one of those things where he's not going to change me and I'm not going to change him -- so I've just got to work on my attitude. A challenge, to be sure.

I need to work on my patience. I've always heard that you should never pray for more patience because you might end up dealing with something which will really try your soul. So I need to be very specific in asking for the patience to be a cheerful (care) giver. It ain't easy. I was obviously never meant to be a nurse, teacher or counselor and it often shows.

Beyond all of that, I just need to try harder at everything I do. Well, maybe. Sometimes there's a fine line between doing something well and over-doing it to the point of wasting time and energy. The trick is to do what needs to be done but not to miss another opportunity because of being too focused on something that really needs to be let go.

I wish everyone reading this a very happy new year! I hope it'll be fabulous -- and, if it's not, I hope you'll have the blessings of friends, family and faith to get you through.

So, how was it?

2009-12-27T16:33:00.005-05:00

Christmas is over and now we're heading full-steam ahead to...next Christmas. That's how it seems to me, anyway. When I was little, it seemed like Christmas was, well, as slow as Christmas but now the years are whizzing by at an alarming speed. I suppose there's both good and bad in that but it is what it is. As we get older, the earth apparently turns faster -- a little detail which isn't picked up by NASA.

We had a good Christmas -- a day of excess any way you look at it -- too many presents, too much food. But that's what it's all about, right? Well, no, but that's what we've made it -- myself included. I'd love to have a Christmas which was spent simply being together -- maybe exchanging small tokens -- and not having it be the all-out frenzy it always ends up becoming.

Our family Christmas gathering usually numbers around ten -- depending on who can come. I mentioned before that when the kids were small, we put a moratorium on traveling so, since then, we've always had Christmas here at our house. But, now that everyone is pretty much grown, who knows? Maybe next year, Shannon will want to host her first Christmas gathering at her own house! And I'd dearly love to experience a white Christmas one day -- never had one of those -- barely have had a white anything. My goal is to ride in a "one horse open sleigh". I'd love to spend a Christmas in Williamsburg, Virginia -- or in New York City.

Anyway, I got a lot of nice presents this year -- the small ones mean just as much as the big ones. Mark told me that he was getting me something I might not use. My first thought was why get it then? But my second thought was that it was probably a Kindle - and I was right. I don't know how much I'll use it right now -- I think it'll be great for traveling or for periodicals but I still like the feel of an actual book in my hand. But I've had fun with it already and I'm sure it'll come in handy. Using the Kindle in bed will probably be a no-no -- the book I'm reading usually hits the floor as I fall asleep. But he did buy insurance on the thing...

So, another Christmas over and done. Now, maybe I can catch up on all of the non-Christmas related things which I let fall by the wayside -- like reading other blogs, posting on my forum -- and, oh, yeah -- laundry.

Hope your holy-days were good! Now, on to a new year...

Merry Christmas, y'all!!

2009-12-22T17:12:00.003-05:00

Humans: Wesley, Carrie and Shannon (Shannon's husband, Greg, wasn't here for the photo -- poor timing on my part)

Canines: Clayton, Neville, Daphne, Liesl and Madigan

On the bright side...

2009-12-17T09:41:00.007-05:00

I'm not much of a Christmas person -- I don't like the whole "I have to do this...and this...and this..." I'm more the one-task-at-a-time type so the Christmas season can really overwhelm me if there's too much being hurled at me at once. Compared to last year, though, when I was consumed by grief (over the unexpected death of a dog), this year is better by leaps and bounds. However, there has been that small matter of having my house painted...

But, on the bright side...

Not only does fresh paint make things look newer and cleaner but the colors have turned out great. I went with a similar color in the hallways but now it's more grayish than greenish. I painted the kitchen area a light blue -- I was a little worried about that but it looks great with my collection of blue & white plates. The den had the biggest change -- a rose color before, my intention was to keep a pinkish tint only lighter -- somehow, though, when all was said and done, it ended up being a peachy/creamy color -- and somehow that color actually looks good with the furnishings in the room.

More good news is that Neville is seeing out of his injured eye. We still don't know what caused a trauma like that but it was pretty bad. Last week, he definitely couldn't see out of it. At his check-up, the vet said he may not have full vision in that eye but, if not, what would be affected would be his night vision -- and since he's sprawled in the bed at night, it hardly matters.

What else is good around here? Well, the work on the house is mostly finished (with one more thing to be done but it's under the house so shouldn't be a big deal). I've still got a lot to get straight but somehow I will and, if I don't, it's not like the Queen of Sheba is joining us for Christmas dinner. The Queen Mother (as in mine) will just have to get over it.

I haven't had much chance to shop due to the work going on around here. I've done a lot of shopping online but I headed out today and hit four different stores as quickly as possible. I didn't buy a whole lot but I got a few stocking-stuffers. Still trying to think of something to buy hubby -- very, very difficult. I do have one thing for him but that's about it -- he, on the other hand, tends to go all-out for me (because I'm easy!). I am trying to be a joyful receiver but it makes me feel a bit crummy that I can't return the favor -- unless I buy a bunch of stuff he wouldn't care about or ever use -- and I don't like doing that, either. And, by the way, his birthday is in January -- so it's a double whammy as far as gift-giving. And he'll be 50 -- so nonny-nonny-boo-boo.

We got the furniture moved from the old dining room to the new one and tomorrow my new table arrives for the kitchen area -- I haven't gotten a new rug or chairs yet for that room but I will. I hear they have great after-Christmas sales. Of course, this year, they were having pretty good pre-Christmas sales, too. Of course, none of that sale stuff was on anybody's list. Let's face it, if you want a North Face jacket, you're gonna' pay, no matter what or when.

And, last but not least, here's the biggest and best bright side of all...

SNAFU...

2009-12-14T11:32:00.009-05:00

I'm trying to be good although Santa has probably already looked at my behavior this year and said, "no dice". But here I am, less than two weeks before Christmas, scratching my head, wondering where the time went. I think I need to make a list and check it twice because I don't know what I have done or have yet to do.

The painting in the house is finished-- now we're just having a few odds and ends fixed. I still have to get my rooms back together -- many are still in turmoil. Not really a good time of year to turn the dining room -- which I've never used as a dining room -- into an actual dining room. I have a smaller table for the room I did use as a dining room being delivered on Friday. I hope it's all going to come together the way I'm seeing it in my head.

We do have a tree up! Yeah! It has lights and, I think, five ornaments on it -- but that's a start. Even though there isn't much time before Christmas now, I'm determined to do a little more decorating.

In the midst of all of this, we took a trip to Asheville, NC, over the weekend -- it wasn't a pleasure trip though I did get a chance to go to my two favorite artsy-fartsy stores. My Aunt Dot, who is my mother's lone surviving sibling, is in poor health and we took my mother to see her. My feeling, leaving my aunt's house, was that we might not see her again. On the way out, she gave me a couple of old Christmas ornaments so that I would remember her when she was gone. Can anyone say "lump in throat"?

We stayed in at the Inn on Main Street in Weaverville while we were there. It's an old Victorian house and I do believe there might have been a ghost in our room. I heard something which sounded like someone, wearing slippers, shuffling around our room but I was so tired I didn't even turn over to see what it was. The funny thing was that another couple heard what sounded like furniture being moved around in the middle of the night. Calling Jason and Grant...

Actually, the innkeeper told us that a ghost-hunting team (not sure if it was actually Ghosthunters) had called them and wanted to stake out the inn but the innkeepers declined because they didn't want a lot of ghost-loving people (I think he may have meant weird people) booking rooms, expecting to find a ghost, then being disappointed. They seemed rather impressed, though, that two different people heard odd noises during the same night -- and also that neither of us had read or heard anything beforehand about the B&B being haunted -- he did share some stories after he heard our experiences. I'm not sure whether I believe in such things but I do believe that there are things out there that we don't or can't understand.

Neville's (Boston Terrier) eye is better -- he does seem to be seeing out of it again -- we really thought he'd lost his sight in that eye but, hopefully, he'll have some, if not all, of his vision. I take him to the vet on Wednesday morning to have him checked out again. It's not like we could do anything if he had lost his vision but I didn't want to do nothing if there was something we could do.

The puppy (Daphne the mongrel) has worms again They keep telling me that tapeworms are caused by ingesting fleas. Okay, I got it but I've never had a dog that we had to keep re-treating -- and, yes, she's on flea control. Hopefully, we'll get it under control soon. The worms don't seem to bother her but all the humans are making faces.

Otherwise all is SNAFU around here as usual...

Say my name, say my name...

2009-12-11T09:39:00.008-05:00

Over on Rightmyer Rants, Bobbi mentioned how she'd had an article published in Kentucky Monthly magazine but her name was misspelled because an "e" was added. This got me to thinking about how I've had to go through life spelling my own name(s).

My name should be easy enough, you'd think, except there are multiple ways to spell it -- Lynn, Lynne, Lyn, Len -- and I've even seen it spelled Lin. For whatever reason, most people want to put the e on the end of it -- perhaps most females who have that name use the e -- but I don't -- so I've spent my entire life spelling it out. Lynn is actually my middle name -- and my eldest's middle name is Lynn as well (her daddy's doing) but, unlike me, she doesn't use it as the name she's called. I grew up in the south -- well, I'm still in the south -- where it was often the norm (and still happens to a lesser extent) to call a girl by a double name but I always preferred to be just Lynn. Back in the day, it was common for girls to be given the middle name Lynn -- or Ann -- another name with different spellings.

It wasn't only that name I had to spell. I had to spell Irwin all the time. The more common spelling is Erwin but I've been called everything from Irving to Owen (not sure about that one but it's actually happened). In Tennessee, where my daddy was from, you may see it more with an I than an E and that may be true for other parts of the country as well but, growing up, I didn't know anybody else with that name, whether spelled with an I or an E. It's not that common which is why I stuck it in the middle of my "writing" name in order to set me apart from the gazillion Lynn Stewarts out there. By the way, my blog and forum are often reached because folks are searching for Lyn Irwin -- the mother of Steve Irwin.

When I married a Stewart, I thought, well, now I won't have to spell my last name any more. Wrong. My first clue was at the lake property Mark's family owned. They shared a driveway with the people next door who happened to have the same name - well, sort of. On one side of the driveway, there was a sign which said Stuart and, on the other, one that said Stewart. Looked like folks just couldn't make up their minds.

In any case, I'm still having to spell my last name. And my middle name. And my maiden name -- though I only use Irwin in writing and on the internet, I'm constantly having to spell it when I'm with my mother at doctor's appointments, etc.

We tend to be persnickety about our names. Even if someone else has the same name (and there probably isn't anybody who's the sole owner of one), it's still our name and we want it pronounced and spelled correctly. When it isn't, it's almost like it isn't quite us.

So, for the record, I'm Lynn with no e, Irwin with an I not an E and Stewart with an ew not a u.

So, now that we've got that straight...it won't matter one bit...I'll be spelling for the rest of my life...

I am tired of this...

2009-12-09T09:36:00.005-05:00

You probably think I'm going to say I'm tired of all the painting and the house being in an uproar. While that is true, I have something else that I'm tired of -- and that's taking dogs to the vet. Don't get me wrong -- everyone who knows me knows how much I love my dogs so, when they're sick or hurt, I'm going to take them immediately if not sooner.

Before this last year, it seemed that I seldom had to take them in except for their yearly check-up. But, starting last December, with Butler getting sick and then having to put him down, it's been one thing after another. We had to deal with Spencer having multiple hernia operations, his blindness and, finally, the normal aging process which reached its end in October. Then, in July, we lost Darcy, the pug. On Monday, when I let the dogs back into the rest of the house (after painting was finished for the day), Neville (Boston Terrier) came in with a bloody and swollen eye. There could be multiple causes -- he could have poked something in there (like a stick out in the yard) or it could have come from fighting with the other dogs -- though there were no other signs of an altercation. It could have come from roughhousing -- he may have taken a tooth or claw to the eye.

With these bug-eyed dogs, the chance of eye injury is higher than for other dogs. We always keep eye antibiotic (for dogs) around because of that so I immediately put some in, called the vet and was off (they had to work us in and I had to wait a long time but I really had no choice). Anyway, I was told to continue with the ointment and was given some other drops -- which we are to use for a week.

By Tuesday, the eye looked better but, with a sinking feeling, I thought that he was not seeing out of it (on Monday, the vet said he could see). Today, though, he seems to be blinking if I put a hand in front of that eye so I'm hoping this was temporary and due to swelling and inflammation but I'm really not sure. It's not that he can't see out of the other eye but then I go into overdrive thinking if it happened once, it could happen again.

So, I'm tired of having dog problems -- injuries, sickness and personality conflicts. I guess I'm comparing things to how they were -- the peaceable kingdom we used to have is gone. This configuration of dogs is different -- they're more likely to spar, more likely to get agitated. It's something I'm still getting used to, though both Darcy's and Spencer's death taught me that you just never know.

So, I'm a little agitated myself. Waiting for the house to be finished, waiting to decorate for Christmas, waiting to see if Neville's vision will be okay -- though, if it's not, there's really nothing we can do.

So, send up a little doggie prayer as I, as always, muddle through.

Certifiably Insane...

2009-12-08T10:09:00.004-05:00

Yesterday, I wrote about how the painting was nearly finished -- today, I asked Lee (we're back to our original contractor, now that he feels better) to paint another bedroom and bathroom. I'm insane, I know, but painting those upstairs rooms won't be as disruptive as the rest of the house has been -- and he needs the work. So, what the hey... I really need the rest of the house painted as well but I probably need to get the already-painted part of the house back together before I start on anything else. Somebody stop me before I tell him to just go ahead...

Yesterday, after everyone had gone, I let the dogs back in the house. Neville (Boston Terrier) came in with a bloody and swollen eye. I don't know if it's because of fighting (there were no other indications of that) or roughhousing or being poked by something but I had to take him to the vet. They were short-staffed and had to work him in so I was there for nearly two hours. He's better today -- he has drops and an antibiotic ointment -- but I'm keeping him with me while the other dogs are having to stay out. Bug-eyed dogs' eyes are easy to injure and I don't want to make it worse.

I'm actually remaining quite calm during all of this. I remember when we added on to this house, I stood in the middle of it and cried my eyes out. Having people here for two months was just overwhelming. This is just Week 2 of painting so maybe I can hold it together awhile longer.

I need to stop watching HGTV, though, before I find something else I want to change around here...

Mark says just so it's not him...

Almost there...

2009-12-07T14:01:00.007-05:00

While the guys are here painting (still), I've taken the opportunity to get a few things done around the house -- one of which has been cleaning out my closet. My closet is not a small one -- when we added on to our house several years ago, I sacrificed space in what is my computer area for closet space. My closet -- which I do not share with Mark -- he has his own -- is the size of a small room -- probably something like 10 x 15. The problem with a big closet, though, is that I use it for a dumping ground so you name it, it's in there. This morning, I found several Backstreet Boys books (I was a cougar before being a cougar was cool) which are now posted on Paperbackswap, many items of clothing -- and shoes -- which I haven't worn in I- don't-know-when, and best of all, a ruby and diamond ring which I thought was lost and long-gone. It's been missing for a couple of years -- except that it wasn't missing at all -- it was in the jewelry box all along, on the top level with all the other rings, but in another compartment. Why I didn't search that thoroughly before, I have no idea. I must have given it a cursory pass and then just accepted that I'd lost forever a pretty expensive and unusual bauble. Anyway, it was sort of like getting an early Christmas gift from heaven. So thanks, Big Guy.

My kitchen is being painted today -- which means it's covered in plastic. Which means no cooking. Which is not a bad thing. I went out to lunch with a friend, did a little shopping and we'll go over to my mother's for dinner tonight. Maybe by tomorrow, the kitchen will be open but, honestly, other than the mess, I don't care. Cooking is not my favorite thing -- along with cleaning and all of those domestic duties for which I'm ill-suited. Fortunately, when I married, I made no promises in either department -- so you get what you pay for. It's not like I popped up years later and said I was no longer performing those tasks. I said that pretty much from the beginning. I actually do cook and clean and I even do laundry. But mostly, I don't. Or, I guess you could say, I squeak by. The complaint line forms at the rear -- and stuffing them there is pretty much what you can do with them.

Still no Christmas decorations out, save one Nativity set -- which is only out because it was ordered this year and came in the mail. We don't have a tree yet -- nowhere to put it yet -- the den was almost finished until we decided the trim needed painting since we'd painted the trim everywhere else. I don't envy them painting the kitchen area -- the trim in there is dentil molding (I always thought it was "dental" because it looked like teeth but apparently I was mistaken) and it's not like you can just brush the paint on that. Quite tedious, I'd imagine.

My father was a painter. A working man who headed up the painting crew for the Board of Education in my home town. As a child, I used to help him paint all the time (not at his job but at home, etc.). Nowadays, I'd probably just make a mess. Well, it's as good an excuse as any. Hey, I figure people need work (these folks do) so I'm happy to be able to pay and let somebody else do the job -- and do it better than we ever could.

I think everything will be finished around here by Wednesday and maybe things will get back to normal. Except it's December and what's ever really normal in December?

Not a blessed thing.

This, that and the other thing...

2009-12-04T12:56:00.006-05:00

For some insane reason, I'm having most of the first floor of my house painted at probably the worst time of year. It's needed it for a long time and when we called our usual fix-it man, we figured we'd be on his waiting list for awhile -- which was fine since there was no hurry. But, then he called before Thanksgiving and said he had time right now -- so what was I going to do?

Anyway, I thought that this much painting was way too much for one person but he seemed confident that he could handle it though, in the back of my mind, I was wondering just how long it was going to take him. But, then he got sick and had to call in a painting crew -- fortunately, they've worked for us before and do excellent work -- so no problem on my end. It's definitely going much quicker than it would have.

They've been working all week and, on Monday, they'll do the kitchen and that'll be it -- for now. There's still a lot around here that needs freshening up. Apparently, I've been watching too much HGTV. But, hey, I've learned how to make things better by making simple changes -- and painting, while a nuisance, is actually one of those simple things.

I'm bad about putting things off -- and, in fact, after we'd agreed to let him paint, I almost called him and told him I just couldn't deal with it so close to Christmas. But I didn't -- now I can get on with changing the room that is supposed to be the dining room back into a dining room. And just in time for the smaller table I've ordered to take the place of the big dining table which will now be in the other room...well, you get the picture. I have some pieces of furniture which I think have been in every room of the house at one time or another. You should see the looks I get when I say I want to move this to there.

Speaking of procrastination, I put off getting new flooring for way too long -- we finally did it right before our eldest daughter got married. That was a pretty stressful time, too, but the wedding was our impetus to do something that should have been done long before. Now, I'll have to work my way up to getting the wood floors refinished. I can't think about it without shuddering.

I will say, though, that having work done in the house makes me take stock of what needs to stay and what needs to go. My hubby doesn't know yet that I gave away the piano. If I wasn't going to turn that room into a dining room, he probably wouldn't realize it for months. We've had some words about that piano -- I never understood his attachment to it -- it's old, yes, but it's not a piece that was in either family -- and nobody has played it for years. The kids took lessons when they were younger but they went by the wayside when other activities (volleyball, soccer, horses) became more important. Anyway, the last time we had a discussion about it, he said, "do what you want to do". So I did. The idea of someone using it for what it's meant for -- rather than a place to sit photos -- makes me happy.

So, as you can imagine, I haven't done any Christmas decorating. Last Christmas was so bad (because of the unexpected death of a dog), that I really wanted to try to do better this year. But, if I could get away with it, I'd do absolutely zero. What I need, really, is to decorate entirely with disposable items. That way, instead of having to put them back up in the attic, I could throw them out.

This is probably the last year we'll have a live Christmas tree. Next year, our youngest will fly the coop so it's probably back to an artificial one. This makes no sense considering I just said that I would like to use disposable decorations -- but trees have needles and that just makes more work. And, if you forget to water them, they drop even more. Can you tell this might have been a problem for us over the years?

The dogs will be glad when the painting is done. They've had to stay out in the sunroom during the day -- poor babies -- having to stay in a big comfortable room with access to outside whenever they want! They don't see it that way, though -- they want to be where I am.

So, now I've got to get serious about shopping. I've done some online but not enough. And, every single year, I have to wrack my brains to get something for Mark.

It won't be a piano.

Books Read in 2009

2009-12-04T08:59:00.001-05:00

I don't know what I did but I somehow deleted this -- but here's my list again:

All For Love
Tulip Fever
A Beggar at the Gate
The Boy Who Loved Anne Frank
People of the Book
A Singular Hostage
My Enemy's Cradle
The Palace of Tears
The Gilded Chamber
This Time
City of Shadows
Beneath a Marble Sky
I, Mona Lisa
The Aviary Gate
What Would Jane Austen Do?
Seraglio
Testimony
The Glassblower of Murano
The Wolf Hunt
The Trespass
Mrs. Shakespeare -- The Complete Works
In the Company of the Courtesan
The White
As Shadows Fade
A Treasury of Royal Scandals
Tuck
A Year and a Day
The Young Wan
The Man Who Loved Jane Austen
The Scarlet Lion
The Greatest Knight
Bad Girls of the Bible
The King's Daughter

Live and let love

2009-11-27T10:21:00.009-05:00

Anybody who didn't think Adam Lambert would go over the top as soon as he could was kidding themselves. All the signs were there from the beginning. Unlike a lot of the people who try out for American Idol, Adam was already on the way to his destination. American Idol was just a connecting flight.

I confess I didn't watch Adam on the American Music Awards -- I had known he was going to be on -- and I try to catch him when I can -- but I didn't realize that the AMAs were on that particular night so I've only seen clips and photos of Adam's performance.

As a rock and roll lover from way back, I know some performers set out to awe us with bad behavior rather than with a performance showcasing actual talent. I think, in the recent past, it has happened at every music awards show save, perhaps, the Grammy's. It's sort of expected that somebody is going to push the envelope and get some people hot under the collar. For a beginner, Adam did it quite well, don't you think? I mean, why wait to let everybody know exactly who you are? And, yeah, I think he knew what he was going to do before he did it.

Though I'm quite -- okay, very -- conservative in most of my political views, there is one area that doesn't trouble me -- and that's homosexuality. There are far worse threats to civilization than what two consenting adults -- gay or straight -- are doing in private. I say live and let love.

But, do I think Adam went too far? Yeah, he probably did. He said, in a later interview, that he was not a "babysitter" but, even so, there is still a little thing called personal responsibility. There is a proper place and time for everything (within reason) and the AMAs were not the time and place to pull out all the stops - and this is true for any performer -- gay, straight or wherever they are on the spectrum. It may be true that young children shouldn't have been up that late -- or that their parents should have watched the show before letting their kids watch -- but, as a parent, I can tell you sometimes there just aren't enough hours in the day.

Not having young kids now, I may be somewhat removed from outrage but, knowing me, this probably wouldn't have caused much. I would have probably just said, "my word" and let it go.

Then, after they were out of the room, I would've gone back and watched it again.

One good apple...

2009-11-25T20:52:00.006-05:00

I couldn't let another day go by without mentioning Donny Osmond's win on Dancing With the Stars. I was really pulling for him -- though unlike my Adam Lambert American Idol frenzy, I never voted. Not once. But I'm so thrilled Donny won. When I was 10, he and his brothers were the first concert I ever attended -- forty years later, I still haven't forgotten it. At 51, he is even more of an inspiration -- and proof positive that sometimes nice guys do finish first. Way to go, Donny! I wish I had half the energy!!

Thanksgiving

2009-11-23T18:12:00.001-05:00

I'm not much on traditions. That's not to say I don't follow some but, for the most part, I'd rather mix it up a little. I grew up with the tradition that every Easter, every Thanksgiving, every Christmas had to be spent at my aunt's. Now, I'm not saying that was a bad thing -- at least not when I was little -- but when I started to grow up, the traditions didn't -- so even with a husband and, then children, this tradition was never relaxed. I can still recall my aunt wondering why in the world we had to be with Mark's family on holidays -- as if his side of the family didn't count.

As far as I'm concerned, when traditions start to weigh too heavily or when they are no longer conducive to peace and joy then, perhaps, it's time to rethink them. Mark and I tried to make everybody happy when we were first married and, for awhile, it was fairly easy because both sets of families lived in the same town (though we didn't). It just meant that on the different "feast" days, we were stuffed by the end of the day, having had to dine at two different places -- and on the same type of food. Fortunately, at Christmas, Mark's mother had her big meal on Christmas Eve (and Thanksgiving at night), while my aunt had her big feasts at lunch time. No exceptions. When Mark's parents moved to another town (not far enough away to be able to go to one gathering and not the other), things got a little more difficult.

When I look back on my childhood, I do have fond memories of my aunt's (where, by the way, I was the only child there. Ever.) but I also remember that we never really had our own traditions at my own family's house. We opened presents and then we had to make sure we got to dinner on time or else. Traditions shouldn't be that way. Nobody ought to feel, if they don't follow the yearly script, that they will be in the doghouse.

After we had children, the rules didn't change but, eventually, we did. I put my foot down and said we were no longer going to travel for Christmas (Thanksgiving -- with no presents -- was easier to deal with). We were going to spend it in our own house and, if anybody wanted to see us on that day, they'd have to come to us. After we made our decision, Mark's stepmom's daughters were happy -- it was something everybody had wanted to do but nobody wanted to be the first to suggest it. That is why we now go to the stepmom's house the Saturday before Christmas -- which, of course, is now a -- you guessed it -- tradition. And, if you don't show up, then you get to hear about how everybody was there except you. Oh, well...

But what it boils down to is this -- if a tradition is working for you, if people enjoy it, if it's fun, then by all means, carry on. But when folks get criticized or guilt-tripped about not being able to make it on a certain day or at a certain time, then I think it may be time to take stock of what the holidays are all about, anyway. You know, the old peace and harmony thing. And what's wrong with doing something different every year if the opportunity presents itself?

So, if I don't get another post up before Thanksgiving, I hope all of you who are celebrating, will have a glorious day surrounded by friends, family, food and faith.

And, thank you, for reading my little blog.

Keeping up with the Stewart kids...

2009-11-20T08:17:00.006-05:00

After my last post about not liking sports, here is a post about liking them. Last night, at the sport's banquet at Carrie's school, she received the MVP award for volleyball (for the second year in a row). I won't say it wasn't expected because, well, she was the most valuable player. And, while I'm at it, she's number four in her senior class.

I really shouldn't call the thing last night a banquet because the food never showed up -- we usually have barbecue with all the trimmings -- but the caterer got mixed up on the date and the athletic director didn't know until they didn't show up. Here's a suggestion -- always confirm the caterer the morning of the event. But now that I think about it, I'm not sure we confirmed anything on the morning of Shannon's wedding. Everybody showed up, though.

Speaking of Shannon, she has just received a lovely diploma which says "Master of Business Administration in Healthcare Administration". We're very proud of her for continuing her education. She never had a chance to look for a job in Florence -- she and Greg bought their first house in South Carolina and, within weeks of settling in, Greg got a promotion (he works for CSX railroad) and they are moving close to Charlotte, North Carolina -- next week, actually. They'll be about the same distance from us as they were -- and, being close to a bigger city will be nice for them. I really like Charlotte myself -- between volleyball and concerts, we've been there quite a few times. By the way, we're quite proud of Greg, too -- every parent hopes their child marries someone who is willing to work hard to get ahead. I know of some heartbreak, in other families, with children making poor decisions and my heart goes out to them. There's one thing I've discovered, though, you can give your children everything they need to make it in this world, but they have to take advantage of what you've provided.

I suppose I should talk about Wesley, too. He's at Georgia Tech -- funnily enough the University of Georgia's arch rival -- not sure where the match-up is this year (see, I told you I don't keep up with things like this) -- but I know Wesley will be here for Thanksgiving, then go either to Athens or back to Atlanta for the game on the Saturday after. Maybe since those horrid and embarrassing after-game photos came out, football fans will be on their best behavior and not trash anything. Anyway, he's doing very well in a hard school so we're proud of him, too. I haven't seen him since he cut all of his hair off so that should be interesting. When I saw his photo on Facebook, I hardly recognized my own boy!

So, I'm starting my Thanksgiving early by being thankful for my four kids. I'm proud of them all.

Who let the Dawgs out...

2009-11-18T08:15:00.009-05:00

If you've read my profile, you know I'm a graduate of the University of Georgia. People are astounded when I admit that Mark and I never went to a football game while we were in school -- or since. I went to a few when I was younger but, quite honestly, football, on TV or in person, bores the living hell out of me. I don't know players names or who the coach is nowadays -- I do know that the mascot -- a bulldog -- is named Uga -- it's probably a given that I would know that since it involves a canine. If someone asks me if I saw a game on TV, my usual response is "I didn't know they were playing". If someone asks me if Georgia won or lost a game, I usually have no idea. What can I say? Unless one of my children is playing a sport, I'm just not interested.

But, no matter how I feel about sports in general, I was appalled by the picture and article that greeted me in the newspaper this morning about the trash that fans leave behind after home games in Athens. Not a little trash. Not even a lot of trash. It's a ton of trash. Now, with all the problems in the world, maybe this is not high-priority but, then again, what this shows is a total lack of respect or consideration -- and that is a big problem. I would venture to say that alcohol is probably part of the issue as well -- it's always been said about UGA, that it is the "fountain of knowledge and the students go there to drink". I'm sure other colleges are not exempt from the same foolish behavior.

I don't know who is to blame for most of this -- students or tailgating football fans Anyway you look at it, though, this is absolutely shameful. I wonder if UGA fans go to other schools and trash their campuses? That would be even worse. It's pretty bad, as the article mentions, when an out-of-state newspaper has to warn fans of other teams to be prepared when they come to Athens for a game.

When I was at UGA, my favorite place in the world was the library. I spent a couple of hours there nearly every day -- sometimes studying but mostly combing through periodicals and books. When we left Athens, I cried over having to say goodbye to that one building. So, when I read that, on game days, the library has to be closed because people were peeing, vomiting and fighting inside, I was mortified.

Is this a symptom of what's wrong with our society -- that people just don't care? That they don't bother to clean up their own mess because "somebody else will do it for them"? Maybe that's over-thinking the situation but what this looks like is a bunch of spoiled brats who can't bother to think about anything but their own pleasure.

I think these Dawgs need a choke collar.

April in November...and no, it's not about the weather...

2009-11-17T08:37:00.006-05:00

The new recommendations on mammograms may be a glimpse into the future: a government task force deciding what's best for our health. Yes, I know they had physicians and scientists on this force (very appropriate word?) but I just don't know -- it's government, after all, and we'd all best be a wee bit suspicious, if you ask me. But there seems to be a lot of folks who've been blinded by the reflected light off of Nancy Pelosi's pearly whites. Which I bet she got from the best dentist congress can buy.

When I read this article in the morning paper, I thought I'd blacked out for months and woke up on April Fool's Day. The task force says that women under 50 don't need mammograms and "after 75, the benefits of mammograms are unknown". My own mother might be dead now, if she had not had a routine mammogram after 75.

The report also says that "breast self-exams are of no value". If this wasn't so serious, it would be laughable. Do they not realize how many women have discovered lumps themselves? And now they're saying this is of no value? Do they not understand that there are foolish women out there who might say, "okay, I won't do self-exams anymore because they aren't worth it"? Even if only a small percentage of lumps are found in this manner, saying that it is of no value is ludicrous -- especially considering that doing a self-exam is free -- it's not like anybody is having to pay for it. So, why in the world would they even say this? Is it going to hurt the women if they continue to do it? It's much more likely to hurt them if they don't.

What exactly is going on here?

Now, I know what some folks will say -- that this is just a recommendation, that it won't affect what women and their physicians choose to do. I hope it won't but government-run health care (whether Medicare, Medicaid or a "public option") is not going to give you a choice because the government will say you don't need a routine test and, therefore, they won't pay for it (unless you have risk factors). Apparently, saving one life here or one there is not important enough. Tell that to a breast cancer survivor, if you're brave enough.

Would someone in Washington just get a clue? There's actually a real world out here.

For more on this, go here.

Mike Huckabee in Augusta, GA

2009-11-14T11:01:00.002-05:00

Was thrilled this morning to get a chance to meet Mike Huckabee at a booksigning at Barnes & Noble this morning. There were some 500 people in line -- we were numbers 288-290 -- we got to him at 8:45! There was no time for really personal photos or for one-on-one time with him -- just enough to say "glad to meet you" and for him to say "thanks for coming out" -- and we got to shake his hand! If you'd like to see a few more photos, go here.

Thank a Veteran

2009-11-11T16:55:00.003-05:00

With everything going on in my personal life for the last few days, I neglected to mention, in my earlier post, about it being Veteran's Day. I hope everybody has taken a moment to thank -- either actually or in their hearts -- the men and women who serve daily -- here and overseas -- in the defense of this country. Without them, well, I'd hate to even think about what it would be like.

So, to all veterans, of all wars, thank you.

Yesterday, today and tomorrow...

2009-11-11T07:57:00.011-05:00

Yesterday was a long day. I spent over four hours with my mother in the emergency room. She'd been complaining of stomach pain (along with enough other things that I lose count) on and off but she called me early in the morning and said the pain was much worse. Anyway, at this point, there wasn't much point in going to her primary care doctor because the only thing she could have really done, anyway, was send her over to the hospital for tests. By going to the ER, it was like "one stop shopping" because they did everything right there -- including a CT scan which showed she has diverticulitis. So, she's on medication and a restricted diet for a few days and she should be feeling better soon. This is likely to flare up again but at least now she knows what it is. If she doesn't get to feeling significantly better, we may have to put her in the hospital for one or two nights.

Mark is sick today. Of course, he has to be unable to get out of bed before he'll stay home. If he has to cancel procedures or appointments, then his patients get upset and then he has a lot of catch-up to do, even for one day. This seems to be a cold -- he says he thinks he caught it from Wesley, who he saw last weekend. I reminded him that Wesley was diagnosed with H1N1 (though whether that was what it actually was, I have no idea). Whatever it is, I hope Carrie and I can avoid it.

I got my temporary crown this morning -- it wasn't too bad -- lots of drilling but I didn't feel a thing. The left side of my mouth and lips are still pretty numb but it's getting better. I'll get my permanent crown in 2 or 3 weeks.

We're having a lot of rain around here from the remnants of hurricane Ida. Five or more inches this morning in some areas but, where we are, we're fine. Early this morning, not only was it raining but the wind was blowing. It's kind of scary when I think that we don't know what it's doing outside during the night while we're sleeping. Sometimes I don't even hear thunder.

We got a call from the man painting our house at Lake Oconee -- seems the sewage is backing up -- probably from the rain. That happened once before -- I was there when it happened before and, believe me, you could not stay inside the house. I hope Mark can get somebody to take care of it long-distance because he's in no shape to be dealing with plumbing.

Anyway, yesterday and today haven't been the best of days...and tomorrow isn't looking great either...but we'll make it through. We always do.

Random thoughts on a random day...

2009-11-09T17:19:00.007-05:00

And the walls came tumbling down...

I remember the fall of the Berlin Wall -- but I don't remember it vividly. You know how some things seem like they happened yesterday? Well, this is one of those things that seems like it was much longer ago than twenty years. But there's nothing quite like witnessing folks experiencing freedom.

She's a very kinky girl...the kind you can't take home to mutha...

I can't get the song Superfreak out of my head. They were playing it the other day at Zaxby's (it's a restaurant -- fast-food but they take a little longer...). They must have had a 70s songs on a loop but, out of all the tunes, it had to be Superfreak which won't leave me alone.

Uneasy the head who wears the crown...

Okay, it's not my head, it's my tooth. Finally, the insurance company has okayed the crown and I'll start the process on Wednesday. I'm not sure what the process actually is but I have a feeling it's not a one-day thing. My tooth has started to bother me a little bit so I'm ready to get it over with but I'm not looking foward to it at all. But you can't have it both ways so come Wednesday, I'll be in the chair of torture...

Gotta' get through this...

I've been trying for several days now to get through the first chapter of Geraldine Brook's People of the Book. I'm afraid that lately I'm People of the Nap, which is not conducive to reading.

Fall is in the air...

Not around here, it isn't. We had a couple of chilly days a few weeks ago but, right now, the high has been in the 70s during the day. I will admit that that is much better than the 90s we have during the summer but I am ready for cold weather. Or at least cooler weather. Seriously, we're going to have to think about retiring north instead of south. Of course, there's not much farther south we can go.

Volleyball already...

Carrie tried out for the traveling team over the weekend -- try-outs are next weekend, too. She'll make the cut but we're both a little dismayed because there's a girl who wasn't supposed to be playing this year that will be after all. For those old enough to remember, the name Eddie Haskell says it all. And the apple didn't fall very far from the tree. Lord give me the ability to retain my usually pleasant demeanor...

There's always a first one...

I got a book today from Paperbackswap which was in poor condition. PBS has rules set up about what condition a book should be in -- common-sense things like no water damage, the cover can't be torn, no writing inside the book (other than on the inside cover). Anyway, this one looked to be water damaged and the front cover was about halfway off from the spine. I can't, in good conscience, put it back on the site to swap so it'll eventually go in a giveaway pile. It's still readable but that's about it. Anyway, after swapping a lot of books, this is the first one that's really been in less than stellar condition. It always makes me wonder why some people think that rules apply to everybody but themselves.

Just wondering...

Why didn't they call the H1N1 flu virus the H101G1?

But not funny...

The six year old niece of one of the regular posters on my forum is very sick, with what is probably H1N1, and is being transferred to Johns Hopkins. If you are a praying person, please add her to your prayers.

Also, I have an aunt who's not doing well. She's 89 and my mother's one remaining sibling. Hopefully, we'll be able to go for a visit in the next couple of weeks.

And, of course, keep those prayers coming for the folks at Fort Hood and while you're at it...

Call a jihad a jihad...

Political correctness has officially gone too far.

One day at a time...

2009-11-05T14:27:00.009-05:00

I had a doctor's appointment today -- I'd been dreading it because I've fallen off the wagon. No, not the alcohol wagon -- never been on that one and don't ever intend to climb aboard -- no, my wagon is full of barbecue potato chips and macaroni and cheese.

Sigh. We all know that being too heavy is not good (for me) for a variety of reasons -- arthritis, asthma. And diabetes.

It was about a year ago that I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. While most doctors probably wouldn't even have ordered the glucose test at that point, mine did. And I was grateful -- because it gave me a head's up to do something immediately instead of waiting until the situation was worse. I initially lost 10 pounds without doing much more than cutting out sweets (which I don't eat a lot of, anyway -- give me starch!) and watching my portions (this is where I fail miserably but, damn, food is good). Over time, I lost another five or so, though those last ones fluctuated from week to week. Even with that relatively small weight loss (which I've managed to keep off -- I just haven't lost any more), I felt better and my clothes (that I already had) fit better. I knew, though, that this wasn't going to be easy and that it was a lifestyle change I had to make. I had made a good start but then...

Dogs starting dying left and right and, over the past year, I've found myself sinking more and more into depression. I've been functional -- it's nothing like the postpartum depression I suffered years ago -- but life has just not been, well, as good as I wish it would be. Let me correct that -- life is good -- I'm not. At any rate, I've bumped up my anti-depressant, so, hopefully, things will get better in a few weeks' time (if not, then, hello, new anti-depressant).

Except that here comes Christmas.

I have actually been looking forward -- a little -- to Christmas this year -- not my favorite holiday -- it's just too stressful for me. I long for an 0ld-fashioned Christmas -- with very little shopping and no cooking. Well, I guess no cooking isn't very old-fashioned -- so, how about everything cooked by somebody else? Hey, I will do dishes...

Anyway, I'm still not at the point where I need medication for the diabetes and, I hope, if I'm successful in trimming off some of this fat (let's be honest, here), I might be able to avoid a pill for the foreseeable future. So, wish me luck -- and, better yet, say a prayer. I've just got to get back to exercising and eating better -- on the bright side, all my other blood work was good, including cholesterol.

Maybe I should tape a photo of a Komodo Dragon -- chowing down -- on my refrigerator door. Yuck. By the way, that's one island where I'm never going.

So, here's to shedding a few pounds and to my spirits lifting.

One day at time.

It's my party...

2009-11-03T15:42:00.008-05:00

There's nothing like going to a funeral to make me not want one.

Now, I don't mean I don't want to die -- I'm not ready to go yet but I'm comfortable with the idea, if that makes sense. Like most people, I think our fear comes from the dying process, not death itself. For a Christian, death is only the portal to another, better life. And, yeah, I believe that. I also believe I'll see people who have gone before me. And dogs. Lots of dogs. I imagine I'll be put to work in the heavenly kennels. You can imagine what I hope dogs don't do in heaven.

I accompanied my mother to a funeral this afternoon. It was for the son of one of her friends. He'd been found dead several days ago -- heart attack, they think. I was thinking, as I sat there, that it must be the worst thing in the world to lose a child -- no matter how old you or the child was -- and that it was something I absolutely could not -- and don't want -- to comprehend. I didn't know the man and had only met his mother a couple of times but she and my mother have been friends awhile (even though this friend's husband sort of "hits" on my mother -- take into account they are all in their 80s). I guess I shouldn't really mention that but, honestly, it cracks me up. It drives my mother up the wall -- and, yet, I think it sort of flatters her, too. But I digress...

I told Mark -- and the kids -- that I want to be cremated when I go. I also told the children to mix my and Mark's ashes together (eventually) -- along with all the dog's -- then put us all in one big urn together. You should see the faces my (all grown or nearly) children made. But, hey, I'm serious about this. But, as Mark says, are you really going to care at that point? Well, no. But I care now and I think it's important to honor someone's last wishes because they certainly aren't getting any more of them.

Going to a funeral makes me think of my own send-off. I know some folks have a pre-cremation viewing. No, thanks. Don't be looking at me like that, wearing something I'd never wear. Come to think of it, I don't really want a funeral, either -- I want a celebration -- of my life, not my death. I'm not saying there can't be some somber moments but, hey, talk about the good stuff -- and I hope there'll be some good stuff to say, though sometimes I wonder about myself in my worst year-round-bah-humbug moments.

And, here's another thing -- don't break your neck getting to my funeral/celebration if you didn't say "boo" to me while I was alive. I do realize that sometimes we go to funerals for the sake of the living, not for the deceased -- who we may not have even known -- but it seems that folks sometimes attach too much importance to the funeral, not to the life. Sorry -- I know this cute little emoticon doesn't quite work but it's as close as I could get on short notice.

So, when it's my time, I hope those left behind will do as I've requested: Put the fun in funeral.

And, if my wishes can't be followed, do expect some paranormal activity.

I need to unload...

2009-10-31T14:44:00.007-04:00

I'm beginning to wonder about my relationship with Paperbackswap.

I've always said I'd participate until I got tired of it -- or until they started charging a fee (depending on how much). I usually send out at least a couple of books per week but I'm taking in more than that. My to-be-read list has grown to gargantuan proportions. I'm sitting on over 60 credits. I suppose, what I need to do, is just that -- sit on them until books on my wish-list pop up. That way, instead of browsing around and adding books to my TBR list which I probably would have never chosen, otherwise, I can wait for the ones I really want. By the way, some of those which I would have never read -- other than because I had credits burning a hole in my pocket -- have turned out to be pretty good.

One of my big problems is my lack of reading time. It's not that I can't read fairly quickly or that I couldn't make more time -- I just don't. I tend to read only at night -- and I'm lucky to get through a chapter before I fall asleep. That means that it takes me forever to get through most books. So, while I'm struggling to finish one book, I have new ones coming in the mail nearly every day.

Somebody stop me.

I've given my daughter a few credits (at one point, I had 80+) and I'll probably give her more, if she continues with it or needs them. I've even offered a deal on PBS -- request 4 and I'll throw in one for "free". I'm at the point where I'm thinking it would be much better if I just gave the books away to Goodwill or something. My house is overloaded and I don't know when I'll be able to read all of these books.

I just gave my church's rummage sale two large boxes of books. And I have, in the past, had a book giveaway on my forum -- I've thought about doing that again but, while I have a good many "lurkers", I don't have that many people willing to post -- even to win a book. A free book. And I don't think this blog has enough traffic to warrant a contest, either. It's really not worth the effort to even have a contest unless there are multiple entries. I've also thought about contacting some of my favorite book bloggers and asking them if I could supply a book, here and there, for one of their contests. Anything to get rid of a few.

I'm addicted to books. I love reading them and I love having them. But something's got to give. Seriously. I am out of room. Again.

Anyway, I guess nobody ever died because they had too many books.

Unless they fell on them.

And, oh yeah, if you sign up with Paperbackswap using the link on the right-hand side of this blog, I get extra credits...

Ruh-roh!!

2009-10-25T17:27:00.006-04:00

When I was in elementary school, I used to rush home every afternoon to watch the spooky soap, Dark Shadows. I remember dreading Thursdays because I had Girl Scouts that day and had to miss it -- for any youngsters reading this, this was way back before there was such a thing as VCRs, not to mention TiVo -- if you weren't home to watch, you were out of luck. There was also no such thing as -- gasp -- the Internet -- if a show got canceled, you pretty much didn't know it until it was suddenly off the air. I can vividly remember the last episode of Dark Shadows -- I had no idea the end was near but suddenly they were tying up loose ends and saying something heartbreaking like "the dark shadows at Collinwood were no more" -- and that was that. I remember running outside, into the woods behind our house, and crying like a baby for a good solid hour.

One of my favorite characters on Dark Shadows was a ghost named Daphne, played by a very young, just-starting-0ut, Kate Jackson. I loved the character and I fell in love with the name. My first-born daughter, I insisted, would be Daphne. Well, I didn't take into account there'd be a husband who'd also get a vote and he nixed the name. It was not an argument worth pursuing -- you pick your battles and this was not one of them. We settled on Shannon, a name that pleased us both. By the way, I did get my wish with my son's name -- Wesley -- another name I'd desired since childhood -- though, for the life of me, I can't remember why.

I continued to love the name Daphne, though you don't hear it that often. There's a Daphne in Scooby-Doo, there was also a Daphne in the sitcom, Frasier -- and, there's author Daphne Du Maurier, one of my all-time favorites. The only real-life Daphne I "know" is Daphne, from Tanzanite's Shelf and Stuff (one of my favorite historical fiction blogs).

I'm really surprised that I never named one of my fictional characters Daphne. I don't know why I haven't -- but, then again, my characters pick their own names and nobody has ever chosen that one.

Yesterday, as many have suspected we would -- including anyone who read my last post -- we added another pup to our household. She's a little mutt who will probably grow up to be a medium-sized dog -- she's nearly all black except for a couple of white toes on her back feet and a white mark on her chest. We'd come up with several names -- chiefly Jorja (as in actress Jorja Fox) and Gretl (another Sound of Music name to go along with Liesl) but Carrie mentioned my old favorite and then I knew I was finally going to have a Daphne in my household -- not human but canine -- but you take what you can get.

So, say hello to Daphne...

Stop me before I rescue again...

2009-10-23T10:29:00.004-04:00

I don't really want another dog right now. Coming from me, that's a huge statement, considering I've often said I really need to live out in the country somewhere so that I can have a canine sanctuary.

The thing is, we've lost three dogs in less than a year. Anybody who's been reading this blog or my forum knows all about it. For folks like us, who eat and sleep with their dogs, losing one is like losing a member of the family -- so, we've had a very rough year. We lost Spencer less than a month ago -- he was old and it was expected so it's been easier to bear but it's meant that we now only have four dogs instead of five. To most people, that probably sounds like three too many but we're used to it -- so adding another dog into the mix is probably only a matter of time.

But I'd really like to wait -- for what, I don't know -- but it just seems a reasonable thing to do. However, Mark has a stepbrother who has a mutt who has given birth to a big litter of puppies (I think they are between 2 or 3 months old now) and he is desperate to find homes for them. So, here we are, able to take one but not really desiring to do so. We've seen the mama dog -- she's not small -- and they say the father is some sort of terrier (the idea of these match-ups always amuse me). But we have no idea what these pups look like or what they will become. No, looks aren't everything but I do know I don't want a long-haired dog -- nor do I want one with the snippy behavior of some terriers -- nor do I want one which will become a giant. Which is another nutty statement, considering every time I see that commercial with a Great Dane, I say, "I want one of those".

Anyway, there is a distinct possibility that we will see some of these puppies this weekend. And, if we do, will we be able to say no? The only guarantee I have of not taking one would be not to see them -- and even that is debatable.

Well, I've always said that I will be led to the dogs I'm supposed to have. And we have said we'd like a puppy next time -- since we haven't had a true puppy since we got Clayton, our now 70 pound mutt. And, we've lost Spencer right at the time these puppies are available. And there is a black and white female, though brindle Liesl has already put an end to having an all black and white pack. And I'm afraid, if homes aren't found for these pups, they will end up with a rescue group -- or worse, in the pound.

So, I don't know. We'll see. I don't know that I'm ready to deal with a puppy and all that entails. But, I've done it before -- I know what to do and how to do it. And I think I'm going to offer to pay to get the mama dog fixed.

Sometimes I wonder exactly what God has put me here for and maybe, just maybe, this is it.

Fox Hunt

2009-10-22T08:32:00.005-04:00

I watch Fox News. I also watch other media outlets when I want to see what else is being reported. I read different newspapers and I read all kinds of things all over the internet -- so I think I have a pretty well-rounded view of what's going on and what's being said. I try not to pass judgment based on sound bites or blurbs -- or people frothing at the mouth. I try to keep an open mind and I think I do. Like everybody else, I have my opinions and I have certain ideas which are sacrosanct.

So, here's my opinion, for what it's worth:

Fox is just as legitimate as all the other media outlets. Sure, it's right-leaning but, if that's a problem, then outlets such as MSNBC -- and other networks -- which are left-leaning -- are also a problem. If swinging too far one way is an issue, then swinging too far the other way ought to be one, too. Dissenters -- organizations or individuals -- should never be threatened. And certainly not by those in the government.

In full disclosure, I have a degree in journalism and one of the things I fervently believe in is freedom of the press. Without freedom, all you have left is press. And that has a really heavy sound to it.

I think it's time to bring out that old trusty mirror -- and see that, whenever one points an accusatory finger, it's aiming right back at the pointer. Make sure there are no skeletons in your own closet before you start trying to clean out someone else's.

This is an editorial from The Augusta Chronicle. It says everything I would like to say but don't have the talent to express:

Obama's flawed Fox hunt

White House has its claws out against any perceived dissent

Augusta Chronicle Editorial Staff

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Obama administration, so reluctant to finish the war in Afghanistan, wants to silence dissent and destroy the dissenters at home. Ground zero is Fox News.

The Obama campaign and administration have always treated the network as an adversary -- and, in fact, they seem more willing to engage rogue dictators and despots before sitting down with this American network.

Indeed, the White House strategy now has gone beyond avoiding Fox altogether: Officials recently declared that Fox is not a real news network. Moreover, Obama Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel seemed to even fire a warning shot at the CNNs of the world, saying in a mafia sort of way that they shouldn't follow Fox's lead on stories.

You got a nice network here. I'd hate to see something happen to it.

Coming from a powerful and combative executive branch of the federal government, that's downright chilling.

Even Fox's competitors are recoiling. Unabashed Obama supporter David Gergen said on CNN that the White House is making a mistake by attacking Fox and not engaging with the network. And ABC News' Jake Tapper challenged White House Spokesman Robert Gibbs, "Can you explain why it's appropriate for the White House to decide that a news organization is not one?"

Moreover, Obama's attack on Fox ignores blatant liberal bias in other media. That's OK, though, since they're on Obama's side.

That's not the American way. Dissent is to be embraced, not silenced.

"This is an overtly political campaign" against Fox, writes Nile Gardiner in The Daily Telegraph of London, "and one that is doomed to failure, as it will ensure that even more Americans end up tuning in to Fox shows. The United States is a nation built around the principles of free speech, limited government, and free enterprise, and it is highly unusual for a U.S. administration to launch an authoritarian vendetta against an individual news station. It smacks of mean-spiritedness as well as desperation ...

"Fox News is succeeding in America precisely because it is not afraid to challenge the status quo, and to take on the power of big government. It is unique in broadcast media in going against the grain of the dominant liberal networks, NBC, CBS and ABC, by providing an alternative perspective in a nation where conservatives are still the largest ideological group according to Gallup. Television news in America has for decades been dominated by a left-of-centre oligopoly that has not reflected public opinion. That smug arrangement was shattered when Fox opened for business in the mid-1990s."

But this is even more than an attack on what Obama perceives as a conservative media outlet. It's a concerted, strategic and multifaceted effort to silence all enemies of state.

The campaign against Fox, writes the nonpartisan Politico.com, "underscores how deeply political the Obama White House is in its daily operations --- with a strong focus on redrawing the electoral map and discrediting the personalities and ideas that have powered the conservative movement over the past 20 years.

"This determination has manifested itself in small ways: This president has done three times as many fundraisers as President George W. Bush had at this point in his term. And in large ones: Beginning with their contretemps with Limbaugh last winter, Obama's most important advisers miss few opportunities for public and highly partisan shots at his most influential critics."

How sad -- especially since Mr. Obama promised hope, unity and bipartisanship.

It will be the biggest and most consequential promise he breaks.

From the Thursday, October 22, 2009 edition of the Augusta Chronicle

Housecleaning...again...

2009-10-21T14:48:00.003-04:00

I don't know why I take such a delight in cleaning up my blog when I don't derive any satisfaction from any other kind of cleaning. But, every once in awhile, my blog just bugs me and I have to do something. Today was one of those days.

I just don't like blogs which are "too busy". I have no control of how other people set up their blogs but I prefer a spartan kind of arrangement. Too many columns, too many lists and, God forbid, music, and I just tune out (which is why I keep the sound off on my computer most of the time -- I only turn it on when I need it). Anyway, between all the blogs I follow and the different history sites which I love, there was just too much going on to suit me. I figure when your own blog bugs you, it's time to do something about it.

So, now, you can go to a separate post (look under "Go here for") which contains all of my lists. I don't know if old posts eventually disappear but, at the rate I'm going, it ought to be a long time before that happens -- and I have all my links tucked away somewhere else, anyway, just in case.

So, if there's something you are looking for that you can't find, just ask me. I might be able to find it.